


And a Romance Bloomed From Despair

by idacalgal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Drama, M/M, Mates, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idacalgal/pseuds/idacalgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is struggling in so many ways after the events of the Nogitsune. Derek ends up being the one to help him when he realizes that things are about to get a whole lot tougher. Stiles is his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is not proofread, nor is it finished. I've gotten 8 or 9 chapters done and I'm not totally sure what to do with it next so for now, this is a partial draft. I'll try to update but I'll warn you now that it'll be awhile before the story is finished, so fair warning! Currently, there is a cliffhanger with no resolution afterwards. 
> 
> With that said, enjoy!
> 
> XOXO - Ryan

"See?" Scott looked at me with his eyebrows heavy over his eyes, knit together in the middle in concern. His eyes were expectant, waiting for my expression to melt from its usual hardness into concern for Stiles. I looked back in through the window, partially to look more closely at the boy laying in the web of blankets and sheets, but also partially to get Scott's gaze off of me. Stiles did look thinner. His cheeks, so high and slender already, seemed gaunt, the skin pulled even more tightly along the frame of his bones. Even though his eyes were open, I didn't worry about him seeing Scott and I. It was pitch black outside and the lamp that sat on his desk illuminated the room enough that I was sure that even if he focused on the window, he'd see nothing but a reflection of his room, not that him focusing seemed to even be a concern right now. His eyes, bloodshot, swollen, and rimmed red, stared through the floor at something entirely somewhere else. I repressed the shiver that travelled up my spine upon looking at those usually lively eyes looking so blank that they almost seemed to be dead. Honestly, if it wasn't for the shallow movement of his ribcage, a rhythmic rising and lowering, I might be convinced that he was dead. He sure looked the part. Even his skin had a dull, grey appearance as opposed to the smooth, bright ivory that it usually was. I briefly thought about the antique sink that still sat in my parent's bathroom, once gleaming porcelain, now covered in a thin layer of dust, grime, and ash, masking the life that it once had.

That had been one of the hardest things to look at after returning to Beacon Hills and seeing the remains of my home. I looked into my mother's old bathroom only once, seeing it mostly intact. That was one room of the house that I kept shut. The memories that I had in that room, my mom letting my sister and I play in her big, claw-footed bathtub, washing pebbles in that antique sink, sitting on the fluffy rug while my mother braided my sister's hair. All of those memories had rushed back to me upon seeing the remains of that room. I haven't opened the door since. The rest of the house was easy enough to live in, mostly because it no longer looked like the home that I once knew.

I shook my head when I realized that the familiar constricting of my throat was back, threatening to spring tears into my eyes. I hardened my expression again before looking back to Scott.

"He looks tired. It's two in the morning and he's awake. That'll make anyone's face look tired." I said, not allowing any emotion to leech into my voice.

"Bullshit. You know that this is more than that." Scott had a fire in his eyes that blazed brightly, even in the darkness.

"This isn't our business, Scott." My voice came out harshly. I watched as Scott flinched, his eyes narrowing into a glare and protective glint coming into his expression. When he opened his mouth to say something, argue probably, I continued.

"He doesn't want us around and if this is how he needs to cope, then let him cope. His dad is here, he can take care of Stiles. We need to let things be." I let my voice soften a little, trying to convince to Scott to let things with Stiles ride out as they will. I needed Scott focused and I needed Stiles to get better and interfering wouldn't help.

I surprised myself at that thought. Did I really need Stiles to get better? A month ago, I didn't care whether Stiles came with us or stayed home or lived or died. Stiles was just an attachment on Scott, a tumor that came with the new wolf. But now, I was standing outside of his window, worrying more than I'd ever admit to anyone. I couldn't understand the protective instinct that was gripping me as I perched outside this frail human's room. Frankly, it bothered me that Scott was here at all. I felt some sort of claim over Stiles, even though Scott was his best friend and had known him so much longer than me. It felt like my responsibility to be here, not Scott's. Maybe it was because I considered Stiles to be part of the pack and it was my job to ensure the safety and well-being of each member, and at the moment, Stiles was the one that was most in need of help. At least, that's what I'd convince myself.

"Derek, please. I can't just ignore this. He's my best friend. I can't just wait for him to get better, I need to help." Scott's expression melted into desperation and I needed to do something to ease this situation. I huffed out a long sigh, shooting a glance back towards Stiles, who hadn't moved even a fraction of an inch. He really did look dead.

"Fine. But we cannot interfere directly. He's been through so much and if he doesn't want to see anyone, then that's his choice. We can take turns checking on him, making sure that he's safe. But we will not interfere." I said, putting down authority into my words. Scott nodded slowly in response.

"I'll take first shift. You were out all night last night and frankly you look about as tired as Stiles." I realized that the care that I had for these two was coming to the surface, becoming apparent so I hardened my next words. "Go home and sleep. I need you running at top performance. I can't have any more weak links in the pack. Stiles is bad enough." There was more acid in my voice that I intended but I held my ground.

Scott just nodded again, looking back through the window for a long moment before returning his gaze to me. He clenched his jaw and turned his back, leaping easily off of the eave and into the closest tree, swinging down from a branch to the ground silently. I waited until I couldn't hear his retreating footsteps any longer before returning to Stiles. I just watched him for what was probably another hour before I saw his eyes drift closed as he pulled his fist closer to his face, snuggling into his position more deeply. His breathing slowed and finally, I could see that he was sleeping. It was a relief to see him sleeping, knowing that hopefully, the purple circles beneath his bloodshot eyes would be eased in the morning. I kept my eyes on him, focusing on his breathing to keep my mind from wandering.

It was only about 15 minutes or so until his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down in a frown. I felt my face mimic the motion, starting to feel concerned that he didn't seem to be sleeping soundly. I figured that this was why he looked so tired. He probably wasn't sleeping well when he was finally able to sleep. I continued to watch as his face twisted from emotion to emotion, sadness, anger, worry. His body twitched slightly, his fist trembling next to his face, his leg kicking back slightly.

This continued for a few minutes before the sleep-talking began.

"No," he whispered pitifully, "Please." I saw a tear break down his cheek and I leaned closer, beginning to really worry. This was looking bad. I imagined him doing this every night and my heart felt heavy. Now that Scott was gone, I didn't have to hold up the tough façade that I worked so hard to keep firmly in place in front of everyone that I knew and I let my heart hurt for Stiles.

"Wait!" Scott said, louder this time. His arm shot out towards the edge of the bed, reaching for something that wasn't there. His voice was hoarse as he continued begging, "Don't go. Please. Don't go. Please. Please. Please." He kept repeating himself, his voice growing quieter and more desperate. The tears continued down his face. I clenched my fists. This was hard to watch.

Suddenly, Stiles pulled all of his limbs in as close to his body as possible, his arms shooting up to cover his head. Through the spaces, I could see a look of agony spread over his face as his back arched backwards, distorting his thin frame. He threw his body over to his back and started talking again.

"Don't do it. Please. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." A sob racked his body as he let the last words fall from his lips. The sob faded out and then Stiles gasped, bolting up in bed before letting out an earsplitting scream as he wrapped his arms around his chest, his eyes squeezed closed tightly as he pitched forward in pain.

I was in through the window and crossing the room to his bed before the scream was even over. His eyes shot open and he looked around his room frantically, tears still gushing from his eyes as his breath came in ragged gasps before his eyes settled on me. He jumped in surprise, his eyes wide and confused. Clearly his nerves were shot. I held up my hands innocently, crossing the rest of the room slowly towards Stiles. Suddenly I heard another door open and close and footsteps began to move down the hall. His dad was coming to check on him and Stiles and I both looked at the door. I quickly said, "I won't be far," before flashing into the closet, tucking myself back behind the door. I peeked out, seeing that Stiles was looking around with panic on his face and I suddenly felt guilty for disappearing so quickly. I didn't have much time to feel guilty before his dad opened his bedroom door. I tucked my head back behind the door and listened to his dad quickly cross the room to Stiles' bed.

"Shhhh. Its okay, son. It was just another nightmare." Stiles' dad's voice was muffled by all of the clothes hanging in front of me. There was no response from Stiles but I could hear the springs of his bed creak as his dad sat down. It was quiet for a long moment before I heard his dad speak again.

"Try to get some more rest. Things will get easier with time, Stiles, I promise. I love you so much." I could feel the tenderness coming off of Sheriff Stilinski in waves. The love that he felt was almost palpable in the small room. My heart felt heavy again, sinking further into my chest. During the last moments of silence before Mr. Stilinski moved to the door, I let the pain that I repressed all day long take me for just a moment, biting my lip and clenching my fists, picturing Stiles screaming himself awake. Watching that was so much more painful than I was expecting. When I came to Stiles' house, I wasn't even aware that I actually cared for the kid. Now I was feeling actual pain for whatever it was that he was going through. I felt such a strong urge to protect and comfort Stiles that it made me uncomfortable. I convinced myself that it was because his struggle reminded me so much of what I went through after my family was killed in the fire, but deep down I felt like that was a lie. I wasn't going to allow myself to dwell on it though.

After hearing the door to Stiles' room close, I slowly crept out from the closet, crossing the room slowly so as not to scare Stiles again. His head was down on his knees, which were curled tightly to his chest and his arms covered his head. I could see his body trembling slightly.

"Stiles?" I called quietly, trying to make my voice soft.

He looked up at me, eyes red from tears and then he hid his face again. "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice breathless.

"We've all been worried about you so I came to check on you." I said simply.

He scoffed then, laying back down on his side, facing away from me before saying, "What do you care?"

I froze then, realizing that I didn't know how to respond to that. My heart started beating faster, which didn't happen very often, not unless I was angry. I hesitated a moment before I moved to sit at the edge of Stiles' bed, one knee up so I could face him. "You're part of my pack, Stiles. You are one of us and I care about you just as much as the others. You guys are my family now and I care about you just as much as I did for my true family." I was surprised by the honesty that was coming out of my mouth. I was trying to let down my walls a little in order to comfort Stiles, but at the slightest bit of weakness, my floodgates just seemed to open, which really scared me.

Stiles turned over slowly and I wished that he wouldn't. I was afraid to see his face, afraid to see my weakness reflected back in his reaction. The only word that I could think of for his expression was vulnerable. He suddenly looked so small and childlike to me. So…breakable. I quit fighting to keep my walls up and I let them lower for Stiles' sake. I knew that if I didn't, I'd be too harsh and I'd hurt him even more. I pulled in a shaky breath and clenched my hand in a fist, frustrated that I was having such a hard time with this, with Stiles' eyes on me. I could tell that he was waiting for me to continue but I didn't.

"Are you okay?" I asked, looking at him with concern. He closed his eyes as he nodded and he pulled himself up to sit with his arms wrapped around his legs, pulling himself into a ball. I felt a tingle through my arms, an urge to reach out and pick him up and I clenched my jaw. What was I thinking? What was happening to me? I kept my hands grasped firmly on my knee so I didn't unconsciously reach out to stroke the unreal looking skin at his tender cheeks or run a thumb along the bony jawline. I growled at myself internally for even thinking that.

"You don't look okay." I said dumbly, not knowing what else to say to pull him from the dark place that he had sank into.

Stiles turned his head to look at me, keeping his cheek rested against his arm and gave me a half-hearted smile that never reached his eyes. "I'm trying to be okay." He said slowly, testing the words as if they were the first that he'd spoken in days. I guessed that they actually weren't far off.

"Let us help you." I asked, feeling embarrassed at how pitiful my voice sounded when I spoke.

"No, I've put all of you through enough. I can handle this." He said firmly, his voice taking on more confidence, but I knew it was an act. There was no way in hell that a boy who wakes up from nightmares that violently is handling things okay himself. His assurance angered me, setting in my determination to help him that much more firmly and if he wasn't going to ask for help, I was going to give it to him anyway.

"When was the last time you ate?" I asked, once again eyeing his sunken sockets and dimly hollow cheeks. I let my eyes travel obviously down his shoulders, just now registering the fact that he was shirtless. His shoulders looked bony rather than neatly muscled like I was used to. He had been thin, always, but toned. A fine layer of muscle coating his frame. But those muscles looked smaller, almost non-existent at the protrusion of his collarbones and at the points of bone against the skin, his elbows, his wrists. He watched me as my eyes reached his side, where I felt my heart break for him. The ribs under the surface of the skin were easily visible, as were the sharp points of his hipbones.

"I ate dinner tonight." He spoke in a rush, answering my question too late. I knew he was lying. I brought my eyes back to his and narrowed my gaze, giving him a skeptical expression.

"I did! I ate with my dad. I do every night." Stiles said defensively.

"How much did you eat?" I asked, trying to draw the truth from him. There was no way that he got this thin this fast if he was still eating regularly.

"Some." He answered after a hesitation, revising his answer afterwards though, "Enough."

"By whose standards? If you're eating 'enough' then why are you nothing but bone?" I asked, feeling the roughness return to my voice, instantly regretting it when he turned his body to face me so that way all I had a good view of was the front of his sweatpant-clad legs that covered up his chest.

There was a long pause before he met my eyes again. He looked down at his hands before speaking, "I've been having trouble… keeping it down."

That surprised me. I never would have thought that Stiles would be the bulimic-type, even if he is as depressed as this. I thought back to the times that I'd seen him eat, scarfing down more food than I could imagine even fitting into his slender frame. He would eat quickly and he'd anything that he could get his hands on and when he wasn't eating, he was always complaining about being hungry. This was so unlike him that I almost couldn't see this frail boy in front of me as the Stiles that I had grown to know, so full of life and sarcasm.

"Stiles…" I began, but couldn't think of what to put after that.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" I finally asked, deciding that it worked as well as anything else that I could ask.

His eyes met mine again and there were tears brimming his lashes. "At first I just didn't eat at all. I couldn't move, let alone sleep or even eat. Then when I did start eating again, I honestly couldn't keep it down. My body just rejected everything. Then, I realized that the hunger-pains felt better than the guilt that came after eating so I kept getting rid of it. But I had to eat for my dad's sake." He said in a rush, seeming relieved to tell someone. When I just looked at him without responding, he continued.

"I think my dad believes that I'm getting better, but I think I'm just getting better at acting." He admitted, his shoulder drooping and his body going slacked.

"Why would eating make you feel guilty, Stiles?" I asked, trying to keep my expression neutral.

He shrugged, "Allison will never get to eat again because of me, why would I deserve to eat?"

It suddenly clicked. Stiles felt responsible for Allison's death. Without thinking I reached over to Stiles and wrapped my hands around both of his biceps, pulling him forward so he fell onto his knees and I wrapped my arms around his small body. I felt him stiffen at the unexpected contact but slowly begin to relax into me.

"Stiles, that was not your fault. You can't blame yourself for what that monster did. There was nothing that you could've done and I know that it is difficult to accept, but you have to if you want to move on. Trust me, it took me a long time to figure that out. I don't want you to suffer like I did. You need to let it go. It's all over and you need to move past this. We all do. We will get through this. I'll help you get through this." I felt the sincerity of my words as they fell out of my mouth without permission. I clamped my mouth shut after my last sentence, feeling a mixture or embarrassment and fear for letting that slip out. I wondered briefly what Stiles' face would show if I could see it.

After a moment, Stiles shifted forward more and moved his hands up under the circle that my arms made around him. I released my grip on him, thinking that he was going to push me away, but instead, his arms snaked around my neck and he pressed his face against the skin under my ear. My breath caught in my throat at the motion and I wrapped my arms back around his midsection tightly. I felt my heart pound as I realized that I liked the way that holding onto him like this felt. I got way too much pleasure out of this and I felt fear creep up the back of my neck. I had been repressing the feelings that I had for Stiles, not even allowing myself to truly feel them until this moment. The careful gates that I had put up around my emotions came toppling down and I felt them wash over me, sending goosebumps all the way down my arms. The love that I had for Stiles hit me like a truck, striking down my carefully arranged bad-boy image and I felt tears spring to my eyes.

After a few moments, I managed to gather myself together enough to move, I stroked Stiles' back gently, up and down from his shoulder blades to the middle of his back, where my other arm was clutching his body against mine, all while thinking of what I was going to do about my newly discovered feelings for Stiles. Fear, doubt, and nervousness were not emotions that I felt often, but I felt all of them at once, a cadence of worry drumming through my fast-paced heart.

I felt moisture on my neck and it took me a moment to realize that Stiles was crying again. I slid the hand that was stroking his back up to cradle the back of his head and I pulled him closer, wondering how far this could go before it freaked him out, worrying that even this simple gesture was too intimate. He just gripped my neck tighter and relaxed his body a little more. After a moment, I realized that he must be uncomfortable, balancing on his knees, leaning forward at an angle that would be difficult to maintain if I wasn't holding him up. I considered what move I could make that would make him more comfortable without being too forward. I didn't want to do something that would make him pull away. I wasn't willing to let this human boy go yet. Before I had a chance to decide though, I felt his face pull away from my neck, leaving a cool sting when the air hit the spot where his hot tears and been, pressed between his skin and mine. He sat back onto his heels, closer to me now than he had been before I had embraced him, just a few inches from me. I was hyper-aware of the buzzing air that flowed between us, the gap seeming too large.

Without thinking, I moved my hand up to his face and used my fingertips the brush the tears from his cheek, wincing internally as I felt the bone of his cheek too close to the surface. He looked up at me, his eyes curious. My hand froze where it was, realizing that this must have been the limit. I had crossed a line.

Stiles spoke first, "Why are you being so nice to me?" His question seemed simple enough but the answer was far too complicated. I let my hand fall from his skin and I looked down at the small section of bed that I could see between us, thinking over my answer. What do I say? Because I'm completely in love you with you, Stiles. Because you're suddenly more important to me than anyone else in the pack. Than anyone else in the world. Not only did I not know if he felt the same way about me (which I'm sure he didn't. He hated me.) but I didn't even know if he was gay (which I'm sure he wasn't. He's had a crush on Lydia since the third grade.) No, I couldn't say anything. I suddenly felt my cheeks blaze bright red with a furious blush, growing more embarrassed at my reaction, making the flush creep up my ears. I was suddenly so nervous, so afraid to meet his eyes that I couldn't tear them away from the bed.

"You're blushing?!" He asked suddenly, his voice disbelieving. There was more energy in this question than in anything that I'd heard him say since the night that Allison died. Of course it had to be my stupid feelings that shocked him out of his stupor. I didn't know what to do, so I put the careful mask that I had perfected back in place and got up from the bed suddenly, walking swiftly to the window, standing near the opening breathing in the cold air, facing away from Stiles before answering.

"You're part of the pack. It's my responsibility to make sure you're okay." Good enough.

"Bullshit." He said. I spun around, incredulous at his blatant rejection of my explanation. I didn't think Stiles still had this edge in him.

"Your responsibility is to keep us safe. I'm safe. Now what?" He said, his voice harsh. I flinched unconsciously at his words, completely at a loss.

I turned back towards the window, needing to get some air and clear my head to think of a better excuse. I hated the panic that was setting into my throat.

"Wait!" Stiles exclaimed then, "please don't go. I'm sorry." His voice was quiet and pitiful again. I remembered the words that he had mumbled during his nightmare and how they matched his right now. The look of agony that he had on his face after that part of his dream flashed in my mind and I turned around to check that I hadn't caused that same look to cross his face again. He was biting his lip and his eyes were watering again. I felt my stomach flip in my abdomen, butterflies fluttering against my insides at the sight of his full lip pulled beneath his teeth.

Stiles clenched the bottom of his sweatpants in his fist, biting down on his lip harder. This pulled me from my stupor and I stepped forward, stooping down to kneel in front of him.

"I won't go anywhere if you don't want me to. I'll stay as long as you need me to." I looked up at him, willing him to meet my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't need you, you don't need to stay. But I want you to. I'm selfish, I'm sorry." He mumbled, never meeting my eyes.

I grabbed his ankles and pulled them off the edge of the bed, letting them flop to the floor. Stiles caught himself before he got pitched too far forward and he finally met my eyes, this time with confusion in them.

"Stop that. I'm here as long as you WANT me. And not because I need to be. I want to be here, too." I said, firmly at first, but my voice softened by the end. His eyes finally met mine. And he took a long, unsteady breath.

"This has got to be a dream." He sighed.

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. I let it out easily before relaxing into a sigh. "Why would you think that?" I asked.

Stiles fiddled, clearly nervous. Now it was my turn to be curious, but I would be patient for the poor boy's sake. He's had a rough night already.

"In my dreams, you're always there, no matter where I am in the dream. You're always there but you never help me. Even if I'm being killed you always turn to walk away until I beg you to stay. Then you do, but you always just watch things happen. Whether nothing happens or my whole world ends, you watch." Stiles said.

"Well that's exactly why this can't be a dream." I said softly.

"Why?" Stiles asked, his eyes meeting mine again. I felt my heart melt a little.

"Because unlike your dreams I'm here to help you." I said.

I couldn't read the expression on his face after my statement, but it stirred the butterflies in my stomach.

"Now sleepyhead, you need to get some rest." I stated, his eyes widening in panic slightly before I quickly added, "Don't worry, I won't go anywhere. I'll stay with you all night." At this he smiled weakly and nodded, "okay."

He scooted himself back up to the pillows and laid down on his side, facing the side that I was going to be sleeping on for the night, which excited me. He wanted to face me and my stomach thrilled at the thought. I moved hesitantly, hating how I was overthinking every single move that I made. I laid down on the pillow beside him on my back, tucking one arm behind my head and laying the other on my chest, trying to appear casual. Stiles pulled his blanket up and closed his eyes with a sigh. I turned my head to look at him and smiled softly, glad that his eyes were closed and he couldn't see my moment of weakness, although I had a feeling that I'd be having a lot of them from now on. After returning my gaze to the ceiling, I felt a touch at my side and I flinched unconsciously, purely out of surprise. My nerves were on end to night too.

"Sorry," Stiles murmured, opening his eyes, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, "I think that if I… touch you… while I sleep. I think it might keep me more grounded. Maybe it'll help the nightmares." He seemed to be struggling with the words. I smiled and let him know that it was okay, and I moved the hand that laid on my chest to his, taking it up in mine and reveling in the feeling of his long fingers wrapping through mine. He closed his eyes again and I could tell he was repressing a smile. That put a grin on my face, something that felt foreign to me. I fell asleep with my hand entwined with Stiles' and a warmth in my heart that hadn't been there in years.


	2. 2

Chapter 2

I felt the sunlight beaming in on my face before I saw. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light, glancing around the room I was in. Seeing the blue walls of Stiles' bedroom brought the events of the night before rushing back to me and I felt flutters in my stomach, I turned my head to look towards Stiles' side of the bed and my breath caught in my throat when I saw him. He had curled up against me, one arm wrapped protectively around my bicep and the other arm was laying palm-down on my chest. His whole body was squished up to the side of mine and his cheek was pressed against the skin of my arm. For a moment I felt bad that I apparently hadn't moved since we fell asleep, cuddled him back or something, but then I looked closely at his face. He looked like he was deep in sleep, calm and serene. I felt a pang in my heart at the tender expression on his face. Seeing how deeply he was out, I knew that even if I had cuddled back he wouldn't have noticed.

I glanced over at the clock beside his bed, reading 5:02. I knew that I still had at least an hour and a half before his alarm went off, and maybe two before his dad would come in to check on him before he went to work. At the realization of having all of this time, an idea sprouted in my head. I carefully turned my body, sure to place a hand behind Stiles' head so it didn't fall back too suddenly and wake him. I gently disentangled his arm from mine, handling every movement gingerly so as not to wake him. God knows he needed all of the sleep that he could get. Once he was totally separated from my body, I slid an arm under my pillow, curling it under my head and I softly moved closer so that way Stiles mere inches from my chest. Carefully, I laid my arm around him, putting the pressure down gradually until I had my arm draped securely around his waist. I considered continuing, pulling him into my chest maybe, but I didn't. Partially because I didn't want to risk waking him up, but partially because I didn't want to force it. If Stiles cuddled up to me, that was one thing. But pulling Stiles into it felt wrong. I felt like I was forcing something on him selfishly rather than doing something to help, so I laid there and watched his chest rise and fall with the deep steady breaths of sleep. It made me antsy not to give in to my urge to pull him closer to me, but I resisted.

After a few minutes, maybe 10, Stiles stirred. I froze when I felt his body move and watched with squinted eyes, waiting for him to wake up and freak out, but he never did. He just moved his arms a bit, stretching before he bumped his hand into my stomach. The butterflies, which were becoming far too familiar, returned with vengeance. Upon feeling my frame though, Stiles unconsciously scooted closer, pressing his face against my chest and draping an arm around my waist. I smiled gratefully and tightened my grip on his waist, snuggling my face down into his short brown hair. It didn't take long for me to drift back into sleep.

I awoke suddenly to a knock at the door. Stiles jolted in my arms and he looked up at me with a look on his face that was somewhere between confusion, shock, and panic. I quickly pulled myself from Stiles' limbs and flashed to the closet like I had last night, barely squeezing into the gap behind the door before his bedroom door opened.

"Hey, Bud. Did I wake you up?" Sheriff Stilinski's voice was chipper as he greeted his son.

"Umm. Yeah, I was sleeping." Stiles answered, sounding groggy and confused.

"Good! Then I'm sorry I woke you, kid. Did you get much sleep after that nightmare last night?" The sheriff asked.

"Yeah, actually. I think I slept all the way through the night." Stiles has a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Great! Well hey, if you want to go back to sleep, then go for it. I'm just letting you know that I'm heading to the station for the day." Mr. Stilinski said.

"Okay, dad. See you later." Stiles said.

"Bye kiddo, love you." There was more sincerity in this statement than I expected to hear in a casual parting from Stiles' dad.

"Bye, dad. Love you too." Stiles responded plainly.

I waited until I heard the footsteps retreating down the stairs before I stepped out of the closet. Stiles was sitting up in bed, the comforter pooled around his legs and he was rubbing his eyes. I walked up slowly and sat on the edge of his bed, watching him. He snapped his head up when he felt the mattress sag where I had just sat and jumped a foot in the air when he saw me.

"You okay?" I asked tentatively.

Stiles just closed his eyes and let out a big breathe, clutching his chest. "You scared the hell out of me." I chuckled at that while he continued, "I was sure that last night was a dream. But I guess since nothing tried to kill me, it must have really happened."

"Mhmm. It did." Was my response. I was suddenly nervous, unsure of how he might react to what happened last night. He looked down at his hands with a calculating face for a long moment. Watching him, waiting to hear his reaction was agonizing. A part of me hoped desperately that he would look up and tell me that he liked it, that he wanted me here every night. That side, however, was warring with the pessimistic part of myself, screaming doubts and fears into my head, expecting him to look up at me with disgust on his face. I worked to keep my face neutral, allowing him to react however he would without interfering.

After what felt like decades, I saw his gaze shift, looking from his hands to mine before they traveled slowly up my arm and to my face. I gave him a small smile, encouraging him to say something. Literally anything. The uneven thumping of my heart in my chest was beginning to make me antsy and I was feeling the urge to either hide or run. After another excruciating moment of silence, Stiles spoke.

"Thank you," He started softly, "I really needed that. I didn't have any nightmares with you next to me." His face started to flame red and he dropped his eyes to his hands, his eyebrows pulling together and his jaw tightening.

"No problem." I said, internally punching myself for letting my hard mask slip back into place. I wished I would have given him a better response and I immediately began to rack my brain for ways to revise myself, "I didn't sleep too bad myself." I finally said, smirking at him.

He glanced up at me and broke into a smile. It was weak—A ghost of the giant goofy grin that used to be plastered to his face, but it was a relief to see regardless. I looked into his deep eyes, searching them for answers to the millions of questions that bounced in my head. Is he going to be okay? Can I help him? Is it possible that he could ever learn to love me? Will I survive it if he can't? Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, his expression turned serious and his eyes fell down to his hands again.

"Do you think—"He paused, and I waited for him to continue. When he didn't, I spoke.

"Do I think what?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral even though I was burning with curiosity to know what he'd ask of me. Of course he could have it. He could have anything that he wants, always.

He shook his head and a blush started to crawl up his neck. I thought of when I blushed last night. My head had been swimming with thoughts of how I could explain to Stiles why I was being so nice to him without admitting the truth. I wondered vaguely if it could be possibly be thinking the same thing. Of course he's not thinking the same thing, idiot. He isn't even gay, let alone gay for YOU! I berated myself internally, clenching my hand into a fist.

"You can ask me anything, Stiles. I know I'm a pain in the ass most of the time, but I swear, no judgment right now." I said desperately. I needed to know what he was thinking. I waited as patiently as I was able, having to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from begging while I waited for him to speak.

He cleared his throat and sighed before saying, "Do you think… that you could stay with me again tonight?" His voice was small, scared. I couldn't help the smile that crept over my lips while I responded, "Of course. I'd be happy to."

I saw him fight back a smile before he glanced up at me and thanked me again. This time, though, I noticed the gaunt, tired look to his face and decided that I could use my agreement to stay to my advantage.

"On one condition." I added seriously. His face twisted into worry before I finished, "You need to eat something."

He smiled again and nodded and it felt so good to see. I missed the giant toothy smile that I was used to, but I'd take this weak excuse of a smile over the agony that I saw on his face last night any day. Quickly, though, I remembered what he had said last night about eating and added, "And you need to keep it down."

His smile fell slightly and the worry was back in his eyes, but he nodded. I ignored the reaction, sure that I could get him to eat and keep it down whether he had some scheme working to dodge my request.

"Speaking of food, I guess it's time to get you breakfast, huh?" I asked lightly and chuckled at him when he gulped audibly. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an excuse, no doubt. A look of realization dawned on him when he looked at the clock.

"Hah! I can't eat breakfast, its 11 o'clock." This threw me. I looked over at the clock sharply, seeing the time illuminated in red digits. Sure enough, it read 11:13 AM. I turned back to him asking, "Wait, why aren't you in school? It's a Tuesday!"

He smiled, his lips turning up more easily this time, replying, "It's summer vacation, old man."

His statement hit me hard. Old man. He's only 17, you pervert. I told myself. I didn't mean for them to, but my eyebrows pulled together. I thought about how much was stacked against me, towering between Stiles and I. He was young—Too young. He wasn't old enough to be with me, even if he loved me like I loved him. He didn't love me, and he wasn't even the same orientation as I was. He was a human while I was a werewolf. He was (usually) happy, bouncy, and open while I was a "tough guy" with major emotional issues. The full weight of how forbidden my feelings for Stiles were was suddenly careening down over my shoulders and I felt my heart sink.

"Too old to remember summer vacation, grandpa?" He asked lightly, his usual sarcasm beginning to come back. Hearing this dug the dagger deeper and I just got up and crossed the room to his bedroom door.

"Get dressed. I'm taking you to lunch, then." I said gruffly. I could immediately feel the physicality of Stiles' reaction in the air. A mixture of surprise and pain. I had hurt him. I wanted so badly to punch my fist through the wall to release some of the frustration I felt at myself, but I resisted, partially so he didn't have to explain the giant hole to his dad, but more because I didn't want Stiles to think that it was because of him.

Before I could cause more damage, I opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind me. I walked slowly down the staircase to his living room and sat gingerly on the couch, feeling awkward in Stiles' house. His room had felt natural because it was his, had HIM written all over it. But the rest of the house was only partially Stiles. The rest of the house felt like it belonged to Sheriff Stilinski, which was true, it did. I felt as awkward sitting on the couch as I would have sitting in the sheriff's bed, curling up on his pillows. I was uncomfortable, my hair standing on end as I waited for Stiles. I heard the shower start upstairs, sputtering into a loud heavy spray and I sighed, settling myself into the couch to wait, knowing it would be a while. While I waited, I let my mind wander, thinking about what I could possibly do about this situation that I had suddenly been thrust into. I couldn't have Stiles, that much was for sure. There was no way that he'd ever want me the way that I want him and even if Hell froze over and he did develop feelings for me, I couldn't take him like that. It would be illegal for one, but further than that, it'd be dangerous. He has no right to be as involved in my world as much as he is now. If he was with me, every time that someone had a target on my back, they'd put one on his too. He's too fragile and if one day I couldn't be there when he needed, I'd lose him. Worse, if I ever lost control around him, got too angry, I could hurt him. Maybe I could even kill him. That thought sent a chill up my spine and I shook my head to try to dislodge the image of his pale, greying skin from my mind.

At this moment, I heard a noise upstairs. There was a loud squeaking sound, followed by a yelp, surely from Stiles although the sound was strange, and then a loud thump as something heavy hit the ground, smaller thumps accompanying it. I got up from the couch and ran up the stairs to the bathroom door, but hesitated before I knocked. The bathroom was a private place and I felt intrusive for even knocking. However, the thought that Stiles might be hurt shook my nerves and I knocked loudly on the door, saying loudly, "Stiles? Are you alright?" I couldn't quite keep all of the worry from my voice, although I did my best to mask it.

I heard a whimper in response, but no actual words. Now I was really worried.

"Stiles?!" I said, almost shouting the words. All he managed to say in response was "Oww." Before I heard him gasp loudly and then make another strangled sound.

"Stiles, do you need help? I'm coming in." I waited briefly, listening for resistance. When I heard none, I turned the doorknob, pushing the door in slowly, peering my head around the door. I saw a mess in the tub, the shower curtain tangled around Stiles with the rod for the curtain laying across his chest, hanging out of the tub, dripping water onto the floor. I took the step and a half to the edge of the tub, reaching my hand down to Stiles, placing it on his arm while asking him if he's okay. He shook his head, tears springing to his eyes, gathering at the corners. I looked down his body, trying to find evidence of something causing him pain. When nothing was evident I asked, "What hurts?"

"My leg." Stiles said, his voice quivering. I shot my eyes down towards his legs again, seeing that the shower curtain was masking them. I softly pulled away the shower curtain near his feet and pulled it back until I saw his shin. I saw blood running down his shin to his feet, turning pink as it mixed with the shower water that was still raining down on Stiles. I could see a slight sliver of white protruding out of the gash in his leg. It was very obviously broken. I quickly reached my hand up and turned off the shower and looked back at Stiles' face. The tears were now running down his cheeks and his eyes were clenched shut. He was baring his teeth in pain. I reached behind me and found a towel hanging on the towel rack and set it on the ground beside me while I began to work on untangling the curtain from Stiles limbs, carefully moving it from beneath his other foot and moving it from his torso. I finally got the curtain disentangled from Stiles, revealing his naked body. I carefully trained my eyes on Stiles' face as I slipped a hand beneath his knees, moving slowly, grimacing when he cried out at the movement.

"Come on," I mumbled softly, "We need to get you to the hospital." I moved my hand to his shoulder, pulling him up carefully so I could slip my arm behind him. As carefully as I possibly could, I lifted him from the tub, keeping him close to my chest to make the movements as smooth as possible, minimizing any jolting. He moved both fists to his forehead and groaned as I stood, gritting his teeth together tightly. I gently tipped him so he was upright and he placed his uninjured foot and the ground, putting the pressure on it. His arms snaked around my neck again, relying on me for support heavily. As I reached for his towel, I made a special effort to make sure that I was averting my eyes, giving Stiles whatever privacy I could while simultaneously giving myself some semblance of a chance to resist getting aroused at the sight of his naked body. I wrapped the towel around his waist and tucked the corner into itself at his waist, securing it. Gently, I scooped my arm behind his knees and picked him up off the ground slowly. He grunted in pain when I moved him and I winced, hating that I was causing more pain but knowing that it was necessary. I hurried him to his room, keeping him held tightly to my chest as I moved. I set him on the edge of his bed and as soon as my arms were away from him, he slid down to his side, gripping the comforter while I hurried around his room, finding a tee-shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of boxers, some socks, a pair of tennis shoes, his phone, his wallet, and his keys and shoved them all into the backpack that was shoved beneath his bed. I swung one strap of the bag over my shoulder and moved back to Stiles.

"Come on, I've got clothes for you to put on at the hospital after they get a cast on you. I'm not about to try to get boxers over your leg as it is right now." Stiles shot me a desperate look before nodding. I moved forward and scooped him up off the bed and started down the stairs. He cried out at each step in a quivering voice. I moved as smoothly as I could as I jokingly said, "You can bite me if it'll help, you couldn't do me any damage if you tried." Chuckling as I said it.

Even though I said that jokingly, Stiles took advantage of it and bit his teeth down hard on my shoulder. "Aahrghh!" I growled. I could feel Stiles smile with my skin still in between his teeth. He slid his lips together slowly, trying to make sure that he pulled his mouth away without leaving a trail of saliva behind, but the way that his lips moved against my skin raised goosebumps all the way up my arm and down the back of my neck. My body felt like a live wire. I moved through the front door turning back towards the door telling Stiles to lock it. He looked at the door and released his death grip around my neck with one hand and reached around to lock the door and he pulled it closed. Once it was shut, I continued walking. When I passed his Jeep, he spoke up.

"Hey where are you taking me? My Jeep is right there." His voice was quivering and quiet.

"Your jeep is the bounciest car I've ever sat it. My Camaro will be a much smoother ride. Just don't bleed out on my seats." I threatened jokingly, remembering a similar threat that he'd made to me the day I asked him to cut my arm off and I laughed to myself.

Stiles just nodded as I continued walking swiftly down the block and around the corner, seeing my Camaro parked a half-block up. I set Stiles on his good foot near the passenger side door as he grunted. I pulled out my keys and unlocked the car, opening the door for him. He hopped forward once on his good foot and gasped in pain at the jolt that it sent through his body. I rushed up and caught him under his arms before he collapsed forward and lifted him off his feet. I moved my hand under his thighs and lifted him gently while he grabbed my shoulders to stabilize himself. I carefully maneuvered him into the car, softly lifting his legs in, setting them on the floor of the car. He winced and arched against the seat as his heel touched down onto the ground. Thinking quickly, I swung the backpack off my back and slid it under his knee to hold his foot off the ground and he thanked me breathlessly. I closed his door and flashed to my own, getting in carefully, so as not to jolt the car and started the engine. I clicked the car into drive and pulled away from the curb swiftly. I drove slowly, especially around corners as I headed towards the hospital. Stiles didn't say anything during the drive, he just held the center console with a white-knuckled grip and breathed deeply, gasping in and blowing the air out in a huff. When we pulled into the hospital, we had to go over a speed bump before I could pull him up to the front entrance. I eased the car down so it was going slower than an idle. I let my car crest the bump but I couldn't control the fact that it came down the far side of the bump with more force. Stiles yelped and grabbed his knee above his injury, his eyes flying wide. Without thinking, I shot my right hand out and placed it on his other knee.

"Hold on, I'm sorry." I mumbled while I moved the rear wheels over the bump, producing the same effect. A small sob burst out of Stiles chest as he clenched his jaw, baring his teeth like he did in the bathtub. I pulled the car into a parking spot quickly, thankful to find one right next to the emergency entrance. I shut the car off and flashed around to Stiles' side, opening the door swiftly.

"Here we go." I huffed as I kneeled beside him, placing my hands under his knees and shoulders. His arms hugged around my neck and I lifted him slowly off the seat. I stood and reached the arm that was under Stiles' shoulders down to grab the backpack, swinging it up to my shoulder before wrapping my arm around Stiles again.

When I walked into the ER, I was greeted by Scott's mom.

"Hi, Dere-oh goodness, Stiles!" She rushed out from behind the desk at the nurses station and jogged over to us.

"Stiles, sweetie. What happened?" She asked, looking up at me briefly to gesture with her chin for me to follow her before she turned her eyes back to Stiles, moving to my side so we could walk.

"I slipped in the shower and broke my leg." He said weakly. Melissa nodded and led me to a gurney, adjusting the back so it was more upright before I sat Stiles down on it. I placed his hips on the bed first, leaning him back so I could slide my hand out from his shoulders, holding his knees up. I then moved down to his legs, using my free hand to cross over the one holding his knees to support his ankles, easily able to hold them both in one of my large hands. I slowly straightened out his legs, resting them on the gurney. He whimpered as I did this, clenching his teeth again.

"Sorry, man." I said, stepping away from the gurney. Melissa stepped behind the gurney's frame, and wheeled Stiles down the hallway to an inevitable surgery and I returned to the waiting room.

When I sat down in one of the pale yellow chairs, I pulled Stiles' phone from his backpack. For a moment, I considered the invasion this would be to Stiles' privacy, but ultimately decided that it was more critical that Stiles' dad is informed. I opened up the contacts, scrolling through until I found and entry under DAD. I pressed talk and brought the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Stiles, what's going on?" The Sheriff was trying to sound casual but I could hear the hint of worry in his voice. I figured Stiles must not call his dad often during the day.

"Sorry Mr. stilinski, this is Derek Hale, actually." I replied.

"Oh, hi Derek. Is Stiles okay?" He asked.

"Well actually, I took Stiles to the hospital. You see, I went over to your house today at noon to see if Stiles might want to go get lunch. He said he needed to take a shower before we went and while I was waiting downstairs, I heard a thump. I went upstairs and Stiles had slipped in the shower. He ended up breaking his leg so I drove him to the ER." I explained, the white lies slipping easily off my tongue.

"Oh Jesus," Mr. stilinski replied in a huff, "I'll be down there soon. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay. Scott's mom met us at the doors and took him back. It looks like it might need surgery so he'll be gone in for awhile." I said cooly.

"Okay. I'll be there soon. Thanks, Derek."

"Absolutely. See you soon." I ended the call and slipped the phone back into Stiles backpack.

After about 20 minutes of waiting, the Sheriff came in the front doors, turning his head back and forth, scanning the waiting room and the nurses area. I was about to raise a hand to alert him to my position, but Melissa go his attention first. I zeroed in my listening on their conversation, trying to get some news on Stiles.

"Hey sheriff, he's fine. He's in surgery now. Should be wrapping up in about an hour. It was a compound fracture, but a clean break. It should heal fine in 6-8 weeks." Melissa said, answering all of the sheriffs unspoken questions. He nodded slowly in response and thanked her before he turned towards the waiting area. I stood, meeting him halfway across the small, nearly empty space.

"Hey, Derek, you didn't have to stay." Sheriff Stilinski said.

"It was no problem. Plus, I wanted to give you this," I handed him the backpack, "it's a change of clothes for Stiles along with his wallet, keys, and phone."

Stiles' dad looked truly grateful as he thanked me, letting me know that he had it from here. I nodded and left, walking back to my Camaro. I considered staying, waiting for Stiles to come out of surgery, but decided that I'd let his dad take care of him, remembering my promise to come back again tonight.

At 11 pm, I sat perched outside Stiles' window, listening to him talk to his dad.

"Here you go, comfy?" Sheriff Stilinski asked. There was no reply so I guessed that Stiles had nodded in response.

"There's water on your nightstand and your crutches are here beside your bed if you need to get up for anything. Good night kiddo." With that, the sheriff turned and left the room. I waited until the sheriff's bedroom door clicked closed before crawling through the window.

"Hey, you came back." Stiles said, surprise in his voice. Once I was all the way in with the window shut behind me, I turned to look at him. His face seemed to have more color in it and his eyes looked a little less sunken. His eyes were red with exhaustion though and he smiled at me goofily, eyes half-lidded.

"Pain med?" I guessed, watching as Stiles giggles in response before nodding, the motion a little too big. I smiled and dragged the desk chair over to his bed, settling in beside him.

"Try to get some sleep, goofball." I said, putting my hand on the bed face up for him to hold. He frowned at my hand and then up to me.

"No cuddling tonight?" He sounded genuinely sad. I laughed and shook my head, laying out some lame excuse about not wanting to roll over onto his leg. Really, though, I was just too afraid that I'd take too much advantage over his drugged state, cuddling other him in a way that definitely crossed the boundary. Stiles laid his head back and closed his eyes, lacing his fingers through mine easily like the night before. I laid my head down on the bed, pulling the back of his hand to rest an inch from my mouth and fell asleep.


	3. 3

Chapter 3

I awoke when the bed beneath my face moved. I shifted my head up to look at Stiles, who was rolling to his side. I glanced down at his leg, propped up on a stack of pillows as he moved, shooting a hand out to catch his leg by the cast softly just before it rolled off its prop and hit the bed. I lowered his leg to the bed carefully and looked back up to his face. He was deep in sleep, mouth open, eyelids twitching. He was dreaming.

For a brief moment, a feeling of worry snapped through me, remember how terribly he reacted to the nightmares the night before. I watched him warily, scooting the chair a little closer to the top of the bed, eyes never leaving his face. I moved my free arm up under my head and laid my cheek on my forearm.

"Derek." Stiles said, his voice no more than a soft sigh. My heart thumped, thinking that maybe he had woken up but never opened his eyes. I lifted my head off my arms and listened again. He mumbled unintelligibly and then sighed my name again. He was sleep-talking.

"I'm here." I whispered, so softly that I wasn't even sure that he'd hear me.

"Don't go." He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I'm not going anywhere, Stiles." I said, feeling the solidarity of that promise in my chest as I said it. Even if Stiles couldn't love me back like I loved him, I wouldn't go anywhere. I would always be available when he needed me. I knew that with as much certainty as I knew that I was a werewolf, as much as I knew that my parents were gone, as much as I knew that the earth rotated around the sun.

"I like when you say my name." He said, smiling. I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This statement felt way too intimate to be coming from Stiles. I knew he was sleeping, dreaming, and drugged, but that statement didn't feel right.

"You too, Stiles." I replied, feeling a little more sappy than I was usually comfortable with but I felt like this might draw out some more interesting words from Stiles. There was a small lump of guilt sitting heavy in my stomach for taking advantage of Stiles in his current state but I couldn't help it. I needed to hear his thoughts, and not just the ones that he let pass through the filter of his consciousness. These unbridled words were too enthralling to resist.

"Derek," Stiles sighed, "I like you." I smiled at this, knowing that he didn't mean it the way that my stomach apparently took it, but it felt good to hear all the same.

"I like you too, Stiles." I said back softly, more quietly than I had previously been. I was hesitant to even say it, to put my feelings into the open, but I felt like I needed to say it to him before it exploded out of me, and saying to his subconscious was better than it slipping while he was awake.

"No." He said suddenly, eyebrows furrowing again. "You don't get it." He argued, his voice clearly trying to be serious, but in his sleepy state, he sounded pouty and I bit my tongue to keep from chuckling.

"What don't I get?" I said. His hand gripped mine tighter and his other slid forward over the blanket and found contact against my arm. His fingers curled around my forearm. I looked back at his face to see his bottom lip quivering slightly and he looked like he was about to cry.

"Stiles, what's wrong?" I asked, placing my other hand over the one that I was already holding, cradling it between both of my large warm palms.

When he replied, his voice was shaking, "I love you, Derek." He said, sounding almost defeated.

My head started to spin and I felt my heart immediately kick into a sprint. My breath caught in my throat and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Part of me felt elated, excited to have heard those words slip from his lips. The other part of me though, sank at the impossibility of his words. This was just sleep-babble and his words had no meaning and I shouldn't hope for anything else. The hope was there though, coursing in my chest, my heart swelling up to twice its size, ready to break. I suddenly felt so vulnerable. A feeling that I hadn't felt in so long. How could such a small, goofy, teenage boy take this much power over me? He had the ability to completely break me resting in his hands and it would take almost no effort at all on Stiles' part to deliver a fatal blow.

I cleared my throat quietly before answering, trying to clear out the lump that had formed there with the tears. I blinked twice, trying to clear my eyes and slowly whispered, "Why is that a bad thing?" I couldn't bring myself to say it back, not until I knew for sure that he meant it the same way that I did. I couldn't say it knowing that it might just be sleep-talk, completely gone in the morning. I couldn't handle that.

"Because you don't love me back." He said softly, a small tear slipping from his thick black lashes down his cheek. I released his hand and moved up to very gently wipe the tear from his face, afraid of waking him but needing to erase that tear, that trickle of sadness from his face. Once the tear was gone and I was sure I hadn't woken him, I replied, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"You can't know that." I hoped he would grasp what I was insinuating without me having to say it.

A look of realization came over his face and he tightened his grip on me again, not saying anything for a long time. Finally, his face relaxed further and further and he mumbled my name once more before falling back into a deep sleep.

I slid my hand into his again, resting my cheek on the back of his hand that was wrapped around my forearms and watched his face while I waited for sleep to take me. I examined his features, allowing my imagination to get away from me for a few moments. I looked at his lips, full and puffy with sleep and tried to imagine what it'd be like to kiss them. I tried to guess at whether he'd go for my top lip or bottom. Whether he'd want a soft, sweet kiss or something fueled by passion.

When I started to imagine how the inside of his mouth would taste, I made myself stop, bringing myself back to the present before I had a reaction that would be incredibly embarrassing if Stiles woke up and saw it. To be safe, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on thoughts of the pack, but somehow they always floated back to the pale human boy in front of me until eventually, I drifted back off to sleep.

I woke up to the feeling of fingers in my hair. My heart began to race and I kept my head still. I didn't want the feeling of Stiles' fingers in my hair to stop and I hoped that if I could feign sleep just a little bit longer, I could take a second to revel in the feeling. His hand moved slowly, fingertips pushing the hair back on the side of my head, just above my ear. His fingertips barely touched my scalp, but where they did, they left an electric chill. Once I felt goosebumps start to form on my arms, I breathed in deeply and squeezed my eyes closed more before opening them, pretending to have just woken up. As soon as I started to stir, Stiles pulled his hand back quickly, obviously not wanting me to notice that he had been touching my hair. I focused my eyes on him and sat up, stretching back. I felt stiffness in all of my muscles from the peculiar position I had slept in and I twisted my body from side to side, hearing a few pops in my spine.

"Ugh, that is the first AND last time that I sleep in THAT position." I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Sorry, you didn't have to stay last night." Stiles said.

"No, it's fine. I wanted to." I felt a blush start to creep up at the sides of my neck so I kept talking, hoping to distract from my statement, "how'd you sleep?"

"Fine. I had some really strange dreams last night, but I didn't wake up once." He said, his gaze shifting to somewhere far away, probably remembering his dream.

I couldn't help the smirk that snuck onto my face as I answered him. "Maybe not completely."

He snapped his gaze back to me, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

"You talk in your sleep. I think you were dreaming out loud." I chuckled lightly, trying to keep the conversation casual, teasing.

His eyes widened in horror for a moment before he regained his composure, asking, "So what did I say?"

I looked at him seriously and said, "Do you really want to know?"

I pushed the chair back to the desk while he responded, "Probably not but curiosity is getting the better of me. Just tell me."

I walked back over to the edge of the bed and started restacking the pillows that had fallen over during the night, fluffing them up while I answered, not looking at Stiles.

"Well you said my name a few times," I started, "and you asked me not to leave."

He hesitated before answering, "Not too embarrassing I guess."

I didn't say anything and I didn't look up at Stiles. I continued to make sure the pillows were stacked meticulously before slipping a hand behind his knee and under his ankle, lifting it up to rest on the stack of pillows.

"I take it there's more?" He said.

I just nodded and leaned over, placing my palms on the bed, staring at the bed spread. I could feel tension in the air as he waited nervously and I considered whether or not I should tell him what he said. I ultimately decided to go with something else that he said, something that still meant something to me but wasn't the big piece.

"You told me that you liked when I said your name and that you liked me…" I paused, glancing sideways at him briefly before returning my eyes down to the bed. He looked embarrassed, not looking up at me. His eyes were cast down at his hands which were fiddling with the drawstrings on the waist of his sweats.

"And?" He asked quietly. I sighed before continuing.

"And I told you that I liked you too." I said quietly, grimacing internally at how soft and scared my words sounded. I heard him breath in sharply and I cleared my throat nervously.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice meek.

I used this question to try to get some answers to one of mine by saying, "I need to know whether or not you meant what you said after that before I can tell you."

I shifted and sat beside him on the bed, facing him. His eyes were intense as they looked into mine, searching for a hint of what he might have said.

"What did I say?" he looked down as he continued, "so far it seems like I was being pretty honest last night."

I had to take a moment for my heart to slow down and my head to stop reeling before I could speak. By the time I was ready to, he had a deep blush over his cheeks and ears.

"You told me—" I was just about to say it before we both heard footsteps heading down the hallway towards Stiles' door. I flew into the closet, my heart thudding so hard that I could hear the whoosh of blood in my ears, reacting to a mixture of what was just said, what was almost said, and the fact that I was now hiding in the closet.

"Hey kiddo." Mr. Stilinksi said, his voice cheery.

"Hey, dad." Stiles replied, "good morning."

"How do you feel?" the sheriff asked.

"Fine, I guess. It's starting to throb again so I might take another pain pill after breakfast." Stiles said, his voice a little breathless.

"Okay, son. Take it easy on those pills, I don't want you to end up becoming some sort of addict."

"I know dad. Just for a few days until the swelling goes down." Stiles responded, irritation in his voice.

"okay, okay. Well I'm heading out. Do you need help with anything before I go?" I didn't hear a response so I guessed that Stiles had just shaken his head.

"Alright. Love you. See you tonight."

"Love you too, dad." Stiles said.

After the door closed and the footsteps retreated down the stairs, I came out of Stiles' closet and moved to the bed.

"You said breakfast." I pointed out, finishing after he made a confused face with, "Now that it was your idea, you have no way of getting out of it."

He sighed, beginning to shift himself up in bed. I was glad that we could put that conversation on hold for a while as I moved to his side. I placed a hand under his cast as he started to move his leg off of the pillows and helped him ease his leg to the floor. He groaned once he was sitting up at the edge of his bed.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"When my foot is down, it just throbs so bad." I made a sympathetic face at him and picked up his crutches, handing them to him. He began to hoist himself up and I kept one hand outstretched awkwardly, ready to offer any help that he needed. He got the pads of the crutches under his arms and then his face went blank.

"Stiles?" I asked.

He slumped forward and I lunged forward and caught him against my chest, pulling him upright. I felt him regain his balance and I released all of him except for a palm on each bicep, holding him steady.

"You okay?" I asked.

He nodded. His face was pale and his lips looked too red. He glanced up at me and said, "Just a little head-rush."

"Stiles, head-rushes don't make you faint." I sighed and took away his crutches, tossing them onto the bed, never letting go of him completely before picking him back up bridal-style like I had done yesterday. One of his arms was draped around my neck and the other gripped my shoulder.

"This is unnecessary." He grumbled.

I looked at him seriously, far too aware of how close our faces were as I replied, "I don't want you to faint while we're going down the stairs. It'll be much more difficult to catch you then."

He nodded and I began to walk down the stairs. I plopped him into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and helped him hoist his casted leg onto another chair and I walked into the kitchen. Opening and closing cupboards, I found a box of cereal and some bowl. I pulled the milk out of the refrigerator and grabbed two spoons. After making our bowls of cereal, I cleaned everything up and brought the bowls back to the dining room, setting one down in front of Stiles and placed a spoon into his bowl.

He looked at me and gave me an incredibly fake smile as he picked up his spoon. I began eating, eyeing Stiles every few moments. He was eating, but his bites were small and he chewed each bite for a long time. I could see an entire array of emotions dance across his features, from guilt to fear to sadness. I took a deep breath and stood from my chair, and Stiles looked up at me and swallowed the bite in his mouth. Before he could even react, I leaned down and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him in for a tight hug. His spoon clinked as he dropped it into the bowl. After a moment, Stiles wrapped his arms around my neck but I could still feel the confusion emanating from him.

"I know this is difficult for you but you can't keep feeling guilty for what happened. That wasn't you that did those bad things and you can't continue to hold yourself responsible. I know that Allison can't eat anymore, but you still have to. I'm not going to let you wither away into nothing… because I like you too, Stiles." I said, my words rushed. I heard him breathe in deeply as I answered his question from earlier and he squeezed me tighter.

"I know you won't be better in a day, but please try to make an effort, for me? I'll be there to help you get through this." I said, relieved to finally be saying all of this to him. I felt him nod against the crook of my neck and I squeezed him again before letting him go, pulling back far enough to look at him. He had tears in his eyes that hadn't yet spilled over. I sat back into my chair and gave Stiles a small smile. He smiled back, more genuinely than he had before and picked up his spoon again.

I resumed eating as well, and for a few moments, it was quiet as we both ate in peace. Stiles, unable to resist as always, spoke after a few moments.

"So… you like me, huh?" He asked. I heard the smile in his voice but I just kept my eyes trained on the food floating in front of me as I shoveled another spoonful of it into my mouth, chewing slowly. I could feel the blush creeping up my face, coating my cheeks but I refused to look up. I didn't know what I'd say or do or what I'd see in his face when I met his eyes.

"No need to be shy, wolfy." He said, jokingly. I could tell he was making fun of the fact that I was flushed. I let a small, low warning growl roll out of my throat, not serious of course, but I still wasn't able to rip my eyes off of my breakfast.

I felt Stiles' fingertips softly touch my knee and my whole body jumped, the chair scooting an inch to the side. Stiles froze at my movement and then laughed at me, making the flush return to my face with vengeance. I decided that if he was going to joke around, that I could too. I stood and took the single step it took to get right in front of him. He put his spoon down, looking up at me with a playful glint in his eye, but I could see that it was masking a small amount of genuine fear beneath it. I bent down to him and wrapped my hands around his waist, hoisting him up. He gasped when I lifted him, flailing. I kicked his chair away so he couldn't knock his foot on it and then laid him over my shoulder. He punched against my back, laughing as he told me to put him down. I just walked up the stairs and into the bathroom, setting him on the side of the tub.

"You. Shower. We have stuff to do." I said gruffly, letting a playful glint into my eye and a smirk grace the edges of my mouth. Stiles put two fingers to his forehead before he flicked them out to me like a salute before the smile dropped from his face.

"Wait." He said. I cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering what was wrong before he continued, "I don't know how I'm going to do this with this thing on my leg…" He looked deep in thought before he looked up, meeting my eyes and asked, "I think I might need your help…" I saw a pink blush settle into his cheeks and I could feel his nervousness in the air, bringing me back down to seriousness.

I nodded and leaned behind him to start the bathtub, adjusting the knobs to get a decent temperature. I also began to wonder how we were going to do this, briefly imagining me laying in the tub with him laying between my legs, his cast hanging outside of the tub while I washed him. I grit my teeth and forced that image out of my head, forcing myself to be more realistic. I figured it'd probably be best if he got in the tub with his cast out, while I helped him reach for things, handing him soap and maybe helping him wash his back or his legs. Once the water was warm, I set the stopper and returned to looking at Stiles.

"I think I can do most of it, I might just need you to help hand me stuff. I'll also need your help getting in and out." Stiles explained.

I nodded and he began to undress. He pulled his shirt off easily and I made myself look away. I could handle the sight of Stiles' chest, but watching him strip the clothes off of it was an entirely different beast. He handed the shirt to me and I placed it on the counter. Next, he moved his good leg closer in to him so he could use it to push his hips up off the tub. One hand supported himself and the other started trying to scoot his pants down. I sighed, chuckling slightly at the awkward movements and leaned in to help. I placed a finger beneath the waistband of his sweats, careful not to accidentally pull at the boxers, and Stiles moved his hand back to the tub's edge. He lifted his hip and I easily slid the pants down over his knees. He pulled one knee up, kicking his foot out of the fabric and I peeled the fabric over the other foot. I had to remind myself to take deep breaths and look elsewhere while I helped. I kept my mind averted, picturing the bone sticking out of his skin and dead animals to try to keep my mind off of how tantalizing the action of removing Stiles' pants had been. I turned away from Stiles and placed his pants on the counter along with his shirt, using the moment to bite down on my tongue for control.

"Do you want to leave your boxers on would you rather take them off?" I asked, working to keep my voice as even and casual as possible.

"Would it make you uncomfortable if I took them off?" He asked, "I could leave them on if it makes you feel weird. I don't really have any qualms with taking them off though. You already saw me naked yesterday."

"I didn't look though," I said, too quickly, "and I'll extend the same courtesy to you today. Do you need help taking them off?" I asked, more cooly this time.

There was a long pause and I turned to face Stiles again. He was blushing and he looked at the floor while he replied, "On second thought, I'll leave them on."

I quirked an eyebrow at him, feeling a small pang of disappointment while I shrugged at him.

I reached forward and moved my hands around Stiles bridal style and lifted him, placing all of him in the tub except for his cast, which I let him drape over the edge of the tub. I turned the water off and handed him the body wash and the washcloth that was draped over the spout. He thanked me and got to work, wiggling around awkwardly to lift different body parts out of the water to wash them. I held out a hand and Stiles looked at me inquisitively before handing it to me. I helped lift his leg from the water and washed his skin, starting at the foot and moving up to his thigh, stopping modestly below the edge of his boxers. I moved to the other side, washing his exposed knee and the bottom part of his thigh before moving back up towards him, gesturing with my chin for him to sit up. He did, and I ran the washcloth over his back. I could feel the ribs and the points of his shoulder blades beneath the cloth and I vowed to myself to fix that.

"Thank you." Stiles said suddenly, his voice heavy with some deeper emotion. I paused briefly, my motions stopping and I could feel Stiles go stiff under my hand. The air was feeling thick with emotion and to attempt to break it, I moved again, trying to be as casual as possible while I asked him what he was thanking me for. It was difficult though, the space between us swollen with tension that I couldn't break up no matter how casual I was.

"For helping me. You don't have to, you know. I probably could do it myself, maybe not as well, but I'm sure I could have managed." I realized instantly that he wasn't just talking about the bath.

I moved to squat at the edge of the tub and waited for Stiles to look at me, but he never did. I reached a hand out hesitantly and placed my thumb and forefinger against his chin. Touching his face had a buzz moving through my hand and up my arm while I pulled his face to the side to look at me. His eyes met mine and there was sadness there that I'm sure he was trying to hide from me. Seeing that made a sadness seep into my bones and I knew that I needed to do what was necessary to fix this. I couldn't have this precious boy looking at me with this misery in his eyes. I wouldn't allow it on my watch.

"I want to help," I started simply, "You are very important to me and I'm going to be here to do anything it takes to make you happy." I could feel the promise burning in my eyes and the intensity that connected us in this moment silently stated that he saw it too. He held my gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes to the edge of the tub.

"Not anything." Stiles muttered under his breath, so quietly that I was sure that he hadn't meant for me to hear it.

"What do you mean Stiles?" He looked up at me, a blush blazing in his cheeks and he caught my gaze. My breath stuck in my throat when I saw the seriousness in his face.

"There is one thing that I want more than anything and I'm afraid it's the one thing that I can't have." He said miserably, looking away again.

"What is it? I'll do whatever I can to make it happen." I said, impatient to hear his answer.

"Nothing," he shook his head vigorously, as if trying to shake something out of it, "we should finish up, I'm getting pruny." He changed the subject, signaling that whatever he was going to say was serious and difficult for him. I could handle not knowing for a while, if that was what Stiles wanted, but I would need to hear him say it soon. I figured I could ask him about it tonight before he went to sleep.

Already, I was planning on staying at his house every night. I couldn't bear the thought of being away from him, especially when that meant that I was leaving him alone with his wretched nightmares. I had known for a little while that I had a school-boy puppy-love crush on Stiles, but it had been less than 48 hours since I realized that I cared for him more deeply than that. 48 hours was more than enough time to realize that I loved this boy and that I couldn't bear to live without him. The thought of being away from him dragged my heart down and I knew that even if he ordered me away, I'd come crawling back like a lost puppy (pun intended) even if that meant that I was always doomed to simply watch over him from afar. If that was all that he'd give me, then that is what I'd take. I needed him.

Stiles made a move to lift himself from the tub and I quickly pulled the tub drain before putting my forearms under his arms and lifting him to his good foot. His cast still hung over the side of the tub I turned to grab him a towel, handing it to him. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. Once it was secured, he looked at me and I lifted him from the bathtub again. Once he was on dry land, he reached his hands up under his towel and started to shimmy his boxers off. I watched, never looking directly at the towel and waited to see if he needed help. I kept my eyes fixed on his chest, his legs, his cast, anywhere but the towel. He managed to get them all the way down to the ground and he pulled his cast out of them, leaving the soaked boxers crumpled around his other foot.

To lighten the mood, I bent down in front of him and scooped him over my shoulder again and he laughed easily, not fighting this time. He hung limp like a ragdoll and I could tell that he was overacting it by the way I could feel his face loll against the back of my shirt. I carried him swiftly to his room and set him down on the bed. I moved around the room, gathering his clothing items and handed them to him before stepping out of the room, giving him privacy. I heard a lot of bumps and grunts before after what seemed like an eternity, he said, "I'm decent."

I came back in the room and started to gather up his wallet, keys and phone and I handed them to him. He shoved them into various pockets and stood from the bed on his good foot, stooping to gather his crutches. I wanted to move forward and help him, but I also didn't want to seem overbearing. Once he was situated, I held the bedroom door open for him and he started to hobble forward awkwardly. He made it to the stairs and I turned to walk down backwards in front of him, ready to catch him if he stumbled. Slowly, he made it down the stairs and out the front door without any problems and I walked alongside him as we rounded the corner to my Camaro.

"Where are we going?" He asked suddenly, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him before.

"I thought you might want to see Scott." I said as his eyes showed his inner struggle with the idea.

"I was going to take you to see the entire pack at once, but I figured I'd have mercy on your poor soul and break you back into the swing of things gently." I said jokingly. Stiles considered this before smiling as he nodded. We drove in silence to Scott's house.

"I think I'll give you two some alone time today. He should be able to give you a ride home, but if not, text me and I'll pick you up." I said, feeling suddenly like a soccer mom dropping her son off for a playdate.

Stiles looked surprised but ultimately accepted what I said. I got out of the car and walked around the front to open his door and help him get out and situated onto his crutches. He smiled at me and began to hobble up the steps to Scott's house while I got back in my Camaro and drove off, moving just around the block so Stiles wouldn't know that I had stuck around to listen. Once parked, I ran back to Scott's house, listening closely to figure out which room they were in. Once I found the window to Scott's bedroom, I settled in between two of the bushes on the side of the house beneath the window, sitting on the ground, and listened.


	4. 4

Chapter 4

"Derek what?! He said not to interfere. I'm your best friend, if anyone should have come in to help you that night, it should have been me!" Scott said, his voice sounding whinier than I had ever heard it and I couldn't help but smirk slightly at this.

"Scott, relax. He really helped me. Like a lot." Stiles said. My heart swelled when I heard his voice, especially hearing him talk about me.

I heard a deep sigh coming from Scott before he asked, "so are you going to explain the cast?"

"Well like I said, Derek came in to help and he ended up staying the night. Having him there really helped with the nightmares. Anyways, when I got up he was going to take me out to breakfast and—"

"He was going to take you to breakfast? He was helping with your nightmares? If anything, I'd think he'd make nightmares WORSE." Scott interrupted and I had to repress a growl in my throat.

"He was being really nice to me, actually. I think he just acts all badass as a defense mechanism. Truly, I think he's actually really nervous and vulnerable. I'm starting to see more through his thick exterior." I wondered if Scott would catch on to the endearing way that Stiles spoke.

"Hmm," Scott huffed, "anyway, your leg." He sounded irritated.

"Anyway, I was about to take a shower when I started to feel light-headed and I passed out. I fell into the tub and I must have fallen really badly because the feeling of my bone breaking brought me around." Stiles explained and I felt guilt wash through me. He had fainted, not just fallen. I should have fed him first. I should never have let him starve himself to the point of fainting to begin with. Why wasn't I there for him sooner? Why had I waited over a month to check on him? Scott's voice pulled me from my internal beating.

"Gnarly, man. So what happened after that?" Scott asked.

"Derek heard me fall and scream and he came back upstairs and took me to the hospital." Stiles said simply, his voice casual.

"Jeez, dude. That sounds like a bad day. So Derek dropped you off here today? Did he stay last night too?" Scott asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

"Mhm…" Stiles said, a clear deliberation present behind his words while he considered what to say. I felt my heart pound, unsure of whether or not I wanted Scott to know the details of all that has changed between Stiles and I since I saw him last.

"There's more, isn't there? Stiles, you know that I know you better than you know yourself. Spill." Scott said sternly.

There was a long pause before Stiles spoke and his words were not what I was expecting.

"Scott, I'm gay." Stiles said breathily. When there was no sound from Scott, Stiles continued nervously, "Well, bisexual, actually… I think."

"And what does this have to do with Derek?" Scott asked slowly, clearly already knowing the answer.

"Just let me finish the story first." Stiles pleaded. There was no response, so I figured that Scott either nodded or refused to reply entirely.

After a long sight, Stiles continued, "So he stayed with me the first night and helped with my nightmares. He was actually really comforting and he helped me a lot. Then last night, he came and stayed with me and held my hand all night to keep the nightmares away. This morning, while eating breakfast, he said that I'd been talking in my sleep. Long story short, I guess I told him that I liked him-"

"And do you? Do you like Derek?" Scott interrupted.

There was a pause before Stiles answered and I held my breath. "I do. I really do."

There was a pregnant silence before Scott told Stiles to continue.

"Anyway," Stiles began breathlessly, "he said that he liked me too. I don't think he meant it that way, I think he must have meant it in pack sort of way, but-oh." Stiles' voice flooded with a sudden realization.

"What?" Scott asked, worry seeping into his voice.

"Derek said that I'd said more, but he never told me what it was. He made it sound important though."

At this point, realization hit me square across the face as I replayed Stiles' sleep-induced ramblings. I stood swiftly and flew down the street to the border of trees signaling the beginning of the preserve. I knew that if I stayed any longer, Scott would undoubtedly hear my pounding heart. Stiles had told me that he loved me in his sleep. At the time, I thought that he'd meant in a brotherly way, but hearing that he was interested in men, and more specifically in me, changed my perspective on what his words could have meant. Stiles loved and I loved him as well, irrevocably.

I ran, focusing my mind on the trees to avoid facing the reality that sat before me. I only stopped once I noticed the sun sinking behind the hills. I slowed my run and began to let my mind wander to the implications of loving Stiles, of what our lives would be like from here on out now that I've chosen him as my mate.

That stopped me dead in my tracks. Mate. This was bigger than even the truest human love. A werewolf's bond with his mate was the strongest version of love that existed among all species and I felt the enormous weight of it on my shoulders. I dropped to my knees in the leaves and felt tears break down my cheeks before I had even realized that they had began to well up. My vision blurred and my breath was stuck in my throat. I could feel the swelling in my heart so much that it hurt as it pressed against my ribs and my pulse pounded in my ears, blocking out all sounds besides those coming from my own body. I felt such a flood of emotions bubble up in my throat that a sob racked my body, pushing me down onto my hands so I sat on all fours. I breathed deeply, letting the air rush in and rush out. After a few minutes, my vision was clear and my heartbeat had slowed enough that I could hear again. Once I felt ready, I pulled myself to my feet and looked at my phone screen.

8:48 PM. Stiles had probably gotten a ride from Scott. I began walking towards my house to shower and change before I headed back to Stiles' house, my hands shaking with nerves while I thought about how tonight would go with my new mate.


	5. 5

Chapter 5

When I arrived at Stiles' house, perched outside his window, just out of sight, it was closing in on 10 o'clock. I watched as Stiles' moved some things around his room, busying himself before he settled into his computer chair to use his computer. I waited, trying to slow my heart and steady my shaking hands. After 20 minutes of trying to relax, it became obvious that it just wasn't going to happen. I sighed quietly, too low for Stiles to hear through the glass, and pushed up the window. Stiles' eyes darted to me, a look for fright on his face for a millisecond before he realized that it was me. A grin broke out over his face and I had to look away and bite my tongue to keep from grinning back at the goofy boy. Once I had both legs through the window, I turned and shut the window deliberately before turning back to Stiles.

"Hey." He said, simply, that grin still present.

"Hey, Stiles. What are you doing?" I asked, kicking myself internally for beating around the bush. I should just get to the point, tell him what is going on rather than drawing this out longer. I moved to sit at the foot of his bed across from him.

"Oh, I was just doing some research. Did you know that werewolves actually take mates? It's a weird thing, it's like falling in love but even stronger. Plus, wolves mate for life, so once they've found their match, that'll be it for them. There won't ever be anyone else, even if the mate dies within minutes of being chosen. The wolf won't ever take another. Crazy, right? Did you know about this? Why didn't you ever tell me about it? This is really interesting stuff!" Stiles said in a rush, and I let him ramble. I felt sentimental seeing Stiles beginning to return to his old self. While he talked, the usual sadness that was present in his eyes, even when he smiled, could barely even be detected. This had really got him excited and I figured this was as good a queue as any to start the conversation that I had been both dreading and looking forward to since my epiphany in the woods.

"I need to talk to you about that, actually." I began, keeping my voice light.

"About mates? Do you already have one?" Stiles asked.

I looked at him, square in the face, and nodded my head yes, "Yeah, I do."

"Oh." Stiles face fell from excitement to utter disappointment, written clear across his face. This made my heart leap from my chest at a thousand miles a minute. I could feel my hands trembling and I folded them together and squeezed them between my knees to hide my nerves. I didn't say anything, waiting for Stiles to have more of a reaction.

"When did you take a mate? I never even knew…" he trailed off.

"I've liked this person for a while now, but I actually just took them as my mate tonight, while you were at Scott's." I said, fully understanding that I was making it sound like I had went out and found a mate that wasn't Stiles during the time that I was away from him. I saw Stiles' face twist into pain that he was trying desperately to mask. He turned away from me and swallowed twice before he dared to speak.

"Who is it?" I could tell he was trying to sound nonchalant but his voice was so quiet and cracked when he spoke.

"Stiles, turn around, I need to talk to you." I said seriously. He obeyed, turning the office chair to look at me. I could see tears forming at the edges of his eyes and he swatted at them with the sleeves of his hoodie. I instantly felt wretched for making him wait, but I needed just a few more moments to drag this out to be sure that I was ready to tell him. It would all be worth it.

"Stiles, do you remember how I told you this morning that there was more that you said in your sleep?" I asked, answering an earlier question of his rather than his most recent. He nodded and got up from the office chair, moving to sit beside me at the edge of the bed, one knee up so he could face me. I knew that he could sense that this was a very serious conversation. While he didn't have the intensified senses that I had, the tension in the air, that buzzing of adrenaline, was so strong that I almost felt like he just had to sense it in some way.

I took a deep breath in and out before answering. By now Stiles was looking at his comforter and I placed a trembling finger under Stiles chin, the contact instantly calming my nerves, ceasing the quivering in my hand. I gently drew his face up until his eyes met mine before I spoke.

"You told me that you loved me." I said quietly, the moment feeling so intimate. A deep red blush scattered over Stiles cheeks and a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. I brought my other hand up to his face to brush the tear away with my thumb as he looked me dead on and said, "I really do." His voice cracked miserably and I knew that I couldn't draw this out any longer. I needed to save this boy from the misery I was putting him through.

I leaned in towards his face, sliding my hand to cradle his delicate cheek and I wasn't nervous anymore now that I was looking deep into the eyes of the one person that meant absolutely everything to me, the one person that held my heart so completely in his hands that nothing else in the world mattered at all. Stiles' eyes dropped down to my lips, his own parting as he gasped quietly in realization of what I was about to do before he dragged his eyes back up to mine. I leaned in further, taking my time to soak up Stiles' scent, the faint warmth of his skin, the sound of his now erratic heart. I leaned my head to the side just before our noses touched and I let my eyes slide closed just after his did. I could tell that he was holding his breath and I knew that I was too. Gently, I touched my lips to his, pressing in for the most loving, sweet, intimate kiss that I could possibly muster. Stiles breathed in sharply when our lips touched and he sighed softly and I wasn't even sure that he was aware that he did. I felt his hand softly touch the back of mine just before I broke the kiss, resting my forehead on his and opened my eyes. Stiles' heart was beating even faster than it was before, even though I didn't think that it was possible. After a moment of recovery, Stiles gave me a confused look. I pulled my head back enough to get a good look at his face and asked him what was wrong, searching his features for some hint.

"What about your mate?" He asked quietly.

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me before I answered him, "Oh, you idiot, YOU'RE my mate," Stiles' eyes widened before I even finished, "and I love you very much."

Stiles smiled and lunged at me, wrapping his arms around my neck and pressing his lips into mine again. I immediately wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him close to me, not able to help the smile that spread across my face under his lips. Stiles pulled back to look at me, keeping his arms locked around my neck and the excitement that was dancing in his eyes caused a fluttering in my stomach.

"I love you, sourwolf." Even though he had to add the sourwolf at the end in typical Stiles decorum, my heart skipped a beat in my chest at hearing him say those words to me for the first time, completely conscious. I smiled brightly at him, a beaming grin that hadn't graced my face since before my family died and Stiles looked amazed.

"You really should smile more often," He said, only after clearing his throat, "it looks great on you."

I rolled my eyes at him and kissed his nose, "I love you too, goofball."


	6. 6

Chapter 6

"I love you too, goofball."

Stiles smiled, blushing at the sweet motion of having his nose kissed.

"So, this means that we're going to be together forever, right?" Stiles asked bluntly, excitement dancing in his voice.

Derek chuckled, ignoring the small pull in his brain telling him to hold back on his reaction to such a committed statement.

"Not necessarily," Derek began to explain as Stiles' face fell a little, "You have free-will and if you decide that you don't want me, then that's that. You don't have to do anything, Stiles." Derek said, seriously.

"Trust me, I want you." Stiles said, trying to match Derek's intensity but couldn't quite measure his words up to absolute promise that was present in Derek's words.

"But you might not always want me. What if one day you get bored of me? Or I screw something up or you find someone else? Just because you're my mate doesn't necessarily mean that I have to be yours." Derek said, keeping the panic that he felt at the thought of Stiles choosing someone else from bubbling up into his face.

"But I thought you mated for life? What would happen to you if I chose differently?" Stiles asked.

"I'd never find another. I guess I'd just be celibate and go through life checking on you, making sure that you were safe and happy no matter what you chose. Whether you wanted me as a friend or didn't want me at all, I'd always check up on you to make sure that you were okay. I wouldn't interfere, but I'd always check." Derek said, unable to keep the slight tremor in his voice away as he considered what a miserable life he'd lead if Stiles chose not to be in it.

Derek continued without looking up at Stiles, "You are the most important thing now. Everything in my life now revolves around you and it always will whether you want me there or not. You are the center of my universe and that can NOT be changed."

At this point, Derek looked up at Stiles, seeing his doe-eyed look at the monumental confession that Derek had just set before him.

"Wow." Stiles whispered quietly, the sound escaping his lips as if he didn't even mean for it to come out.

"Please don't be creeped out by that. It shouldn't change anything for you. You just feel what you feel and act how you'd like. We will take this slow and treat it as if I'm not absolutely indebted to you. Don't feel obliged." I felt the words rolling off of my tongue, coming out quickly without my permission and I hated the loss of control that I had.

"Okay." Stiles said, concern crossing his face as he watched me break down, speaking more than I had at once in the entire time that he's known me.

I moved my hands to his waist and pulled him with me up to the headrest of the bed. I leaned back against the wooden panel and pulled him so he was sitting in my lap facing me, his legs wrapped carefully around my waist so his cast was able to rest on the bed. It was an intimate position, but I needed him close. I needed to relax. I could still feel my entire spine trembling as I leaned my head forward and rested it against his sternum. His hands moved to my hair automatically, entwining his fingers in the short locks at the back of my head. I felt a soft pressure on my head for just a moment and I realized that it was a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him in order to try to hold myself together. I wasn't used to feeling so powerless and vulnerable and it scared me to my core.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Stiles asked tenderly, his words barely above a whisper as he continued to stroke the back of my head with one hand and rub my back with the other.

"This is just a lot for me. If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly an emotional guy but claiming you as my mate is creating the biggest rush of emotions that I've ever felt and I'm really not used to it." I said, gritting my teeth at how shaky and unsure my words came out. My ears were ringing and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get a grip on myself again.

"It's okay. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be afraid of your emotions with me." Stiles cooed.

I just held him tighter and he reacted the same, pulling my head more securely against his chest and I waited for my breathing to return to normal. I felt like I was choking, unable to pass air through to my lungs. At first, my breathing was just heavy, labored. After a moment, though, I couldn't breathe at all. Stiles pushed me back gently and I scooted him off my lap, careful not to twist or jostle his bad leg, turning my back to him as I placed my feet on the ground, bending forward over my knees, trying to pull air in.

"Derek?! What's going on? What's wrong?!" Stiles was scrambling across the bed to me, his voice high with worry. He quickly bent in front of me, balancing his weight on his good leg, and I put my hand on his shoulder to push him aside, not wanting him to see this weakness. I felt panic rising up my throat and not being able to swallow it down or bring much needed air into my lungs was only making the panic grow stronger.

"Derek, I think this is a panic attack. I get these all the time." Stiles said, understanding washing in his voice as he resisted my weak push to move him from me. I managed to wrench an eye open to look at him, seeing the shock cross his face as he took in the fear in my eyes.

"Open your eyes, Derek, look at me. Count with me, it helps. Come on, focus on me," Stiles was saying as he locked eyes with me, "five." I said the word, it coming out breathlessly and I tried to swallow as I keep my eyes on Stiles.

"Four." I said with Stiles, my voice sounding just slightly larger.

"Three." Stiles was nodding with each number, never leaving my gaze. By now, I could feel my heartbeat slowing and my throat felt less tight but I still couldn't get the air to move.

"Two." By now my voice was normal and I was able to pull a breath in although it was a small one.

"One." We both said, my breath labored again. I could breathe, not as well as normally, but there was oxygen again. I collapsed forward, putting my head in my hands as I rested my elbows on my knees and breathed slowly. I could hear Stiles move and feel the bed dip next to me as he sat down. I felt a small touch at the back of my neck and I flinched unconsciously. Stiles flinched as well, moving his hand away and I could sense the small pang of hurt that it caused. I sat up and pulled Stiles into my chest quickly, apologizing to the top of his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm just on edge. You didn't do anything wrong." I was breathless.

"Don't be sorry. It's okay. Let's lay down you must be exhausted." He suggested. I nodded, liking the sound of that. I moved back up to the top of the bed and laid my head on one of the pillows and Stiles laid beside me, facing me. I reached forward and carefully took his hand. He held my hand firmly in his while he waited for my breathing to slow all the way back down to a normal rhythm before speaking and for this, I was grateful.

"Are you okay?" He started.

I nodded in response, bringing forward his next question, "I didn't know that you got panic attacks."

"I've never had one. I didn't know what was happening until you told me what it was. As soon as you said it, it all made sense." I explained.

"Why were you panicking?" He asked.

"Too many emotions to cope with at once. I think I just kinda shut down." I said, my voice more pitiful than I liked.

Stiles nodded, watching me carefully.

"What were you feeling?" Stiles asked hesitantly. I could tell that he was nervous about asking, afraid that I'd shut him out again.

"I will tell you about it, I promise. But can I wait until tomorrow? I'm afraid it'll just bring the panic back." I said gently, not wanting to hurt his feelings for closing him out.

Stiles relaxed and nodded. I squeezed his hand in a silent thank you and he scooted closer to me, his face just inches from mine and I wrapped my arm around his waist automatically, drawing his body against mine. He sighed in contentment and I couldn't help from reacting the same way. We laid like that for a long time until eventually, I could feel his chest moving in the familiar slow heaves of sleep. I buried my face in the hair atop his head and as quietly as I could, I whispered, "I love you so much," before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

I awoke when Stiles stirred in my arms and opened my eyes to the sun barely rising. Stiles yawned against my chest and I shivered at the feeling of the air passing cooly over the damp patch on my shirt where Stiles' head had been sweating. I felt him begin to move his arms and I unwrapped mine to allow him some space, feeling a yawn press up my throat as well.

"Sheesh, you're hot." He said, wiping a few beads of sweat from his forehead.

"I know." I said, jokingly. He sent me a mock-annoyed face before breaking out in a smile.

"I'm all sweaty. Ick." He said as he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side of the bed. I looked away and gulped, pushing the arousal that this gave me down my throat. Normally, seeing him strip his clothes away in such an innocent gesture wouldn't cause me to react like this, but now that I was so connected to the boy, the movement reminded me of how much I wanted him physically in addition to how badly I needed him emotionally.

I sighed and got out of bed, stretching my arms back over my head before twisting side to side, hearing a few satisfying pops in my spine.

"Need help?" I offered Stiles my right hand to help pull him off of the bed. He took my hand gingerly but got up mostly on his own, using my hand strictly for balance before letting go to grab his crutches which were propped against his bedside table. He stuffed them under his bare armpits and I opened the door for him. As he swung his good leg forward, I could see each of the muscles in his abs contract along with the slight muscle at his shoulders. As he came up to the door that I held open, he strained up and kissed my cheek. I turned my face quickly to catch his lips, unable to resist. The kiss was deeper than the one last night, and I let out a sigh at this realization. His lips were pressed firmly into mine, but remained soft and squishy, forming to match the curve of my own. His hand made its way to my chest, resting warmly at my sternum. Unthinkly, my hand found his waist and he shivered at my touch against the sensitive skin of his side. I could feel an excitement beginning to stir in my stomach, threatening to make my arousal noticeable but before I could pull away, Stiles' hand gripped my shirt in a fist and he parted his lips slightly, letting just the tip of his tongue press against my lower lip and I couldn't stop the small hiss at the back of my throat. My resistance to growing warmth in my stomach was becoming quickly futile and I shut the door to Stiles' room, gently pushing his crutches from under his arms, letting them fall to the floor haphazardly and replaced them with my arms, wrapping Stiles in an embrace. His arms moved up to my neck and they secured themselves there, holding me tightly to him.

Slowly, I let my arms trail down his back until my palms rested against the bottom part of his hips. I felt Stiles' teeth graze my lip before he nibbled on it solidly, but not enough to hurt and my resistance to the arousal was suddenly moot. I instinctively moved my hands down stiles hip, skimming over his pajama pants as I made my way down to his thighs. I gripped the back of them firmly and hoisted him up, his legs around my waist. He moaned, a sound that travelled strait through my body to the fast-growing bulge in my jeans, making it twitch uncomfortably. Stiles was more than willing to comply with my movements, wrapping his legs around my waist, locking his good ankle behind his cast. I stepped forward three steps, letting Stiles' back hit the wall. He shivered at the cold before breaking the kiss to let his head fall back against the hard surface with a thump. I wasted no time, moving my lips across his thin jawline, trailing kisses all the way back to his ear. I traced a small circle in the hollow just behind his ear with my tongue before kissing it firmly. Stiles let out a whimper and I could feel a low growl rumble deep in my chest in response. I kissed down the side of his neck, feeling his pulse hammering beneath my lips. As I reached his shoulder I finally got enough of my brain pieced back together to think rationally.

"Stiles?" I murmured, not letting my lips leave his skin completely.

"Huh?" he asked, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Wouldn't you rather take things slow?" I asked, continuing to drag my lips slowly across his shoulder and neck.

I could feel him trembling in my arms and I could smell the anticipation emanating from his frame.

"No." he answered, sounding sure. I sighed, knowing that I didn't want to push things too far too fast. I was still adjusting to all of these new emotions and I didn't want to add all of the intricacies of a sexual relationship to this mix just yet.

"Let's just relax and take things slow," I repeated, "I want to enjoy every bit of it and since there are so many new emotions in my head, I want to sort through those before I add all of this in too." I explained, surprising myself at how well I've been able to articulate my feelings to Stiles in the few short hours since I've claimed him as my mate. I carefully lowered his legs to the ground, making sure that he was balanced before taking a step back to pick his crutches up for him. I heard him groan in annoyance and I chuckled at him.

"You told me that today, you'd tell me what you were feeling to cause your panic attack last night." Stiles reminded me.

"Oh, right. I'll explain over breakfast." I said, appreciating the last few minutes that I had before I had to let all of the emotions bubble up to the surface so I could recognize them.

I followed Stiles downstairs, keeping a close eye on him so I could catch him if he slipped. Once in the kitchen, I got us both a bowl of cereal again, setting his in front of him, I lowered myself into the chair across from him and sighed, knowing that I couldn't put this off any longer. I looked up at Stiles who had an expectant look in his eyes.

"Eat." I said, gesturing to his bowl. Stiles obediently popped a bite into his mouth and locked his eyes back on mine as he chewed.

"Last night was difficult for me." I started, wondering how I'd tell him everything that I felt. Thankfully, Stiles didn't interrupt.

"Honestly, I don't even know how to say what I was feeling. It was everything all at once. Love, obviously," at this point, I felt the ridiculous blush coloring the tips of my ears, "sadness, fear, panic at the thought of you possibly one day wishing me away. Guilt for endangering you. I'm not good for you, Stiles. I've pulled you into this world and you don't deserve it." I could see Stiles opening his mouth to protest, but I held up a hand.

"I felt so much fear and uncertainty about what was going to happen. I was excited and happy that I had found a mate, angry that I was suddenly so weak. I felt so intensely vulnerable with brought panic. I felt so weak and that was the scariest emotion of all. I'm not used to that. I was so powerless, but to what? To you, a frail human boy? You took all of my strength and power from me and that was hard to swallow. For someone who exclusively feels anger, irritation, and overall nothingness. That was just… a lot to process." I finished, staring down into the floating bits of my untouched cereal. I could feel heavy tension in the room along with a warmth radiating from Stiles. He loved me, I could feel it in the air against my skin, every bit of it palpable.

"I'm sorry I did that to you." Stiles said after a few moments of hesitation.

I snapped my eyes up, confused for a moment by his statement.

"Stiles, don't you feel bad. It's probably good for me." I huffed.

"So, what you're saying is that if I make you feel all lovey-dovey and mushy, you might not be a grump anymore?" Stiles smirked at me.

"No," I grumbled, "I'll always be a grump." I rolled my eyes, feeling some of that annoyance that used to surround every situation involving Stiles, only this time, there was something endearing about the way that it irritated me. Now I wanted to roll my eyes at myself.

"But you'll be my grump." Stiles said with a wide grin.

"Yes. I'll be your grump." I agreed, taking his hand across the table. His grin grew larger which surprised me, it didn't seem possible for his mouth to stretch any further.

The rest of breakfast went by pretty quietly. Stiles made a few jokes at my expense and I usually responded to him with a grunt of some sort. Stiles watched as I did the dishes, which made me slightly uncomfortable but I was able to ignore it. After breakfast, Stiles showered and got dressed on his own while I waited outside the door, ready to rush in if I heard Stiles hurt himself by slipping. Once Stiles was clean and dressed without any major stumbles, I pulled out my phone, creating a group message to Scott, Lydia, Isaac, and Stiles.

Pack Camping Trip: Friday-Sunday at Moonbeam Creek. Bring your gear to my place at 3 PM Friday.

Stiles looked at me inquisitively.

"We need to have a pack meeting and I think this is a good chance for us to bond. We're starting to fall apart as a pack." I explained.

Stiles' eyes widened in horror and I jumped to my feet, placing my hands on his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" I asked, eyeing his expression nervously.

He gulped before answering, "It was hard to get used to you again. It was even harder to talk to Scott again. Now to camp for a whole weekend with you two plus Isaac and Lydia? That sounds impossible." Stiles' breathing was becoming labored and I decided that I wanted to try to calm him down using distraction. I leaned in and nuzzled my nose against the connection between his neck and shoulder.

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone invade your space and I'll lay down the law that no one is to ask you questions that I don't approve of first." I started. Seeing this have little effect, I tried harder, sliding my nose up his neck, letting my breath dance over his skin and I felt him tremble.

"I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe. I'll make sure everything is okay." I said softly, moving to kiss the soft spot behind his ear.

"Don't you trust me?" I murmured as I slid my lips down the edge of his jaw. Stiles gave me a small nod as a kissed his chin. I slid my mouth down his chin, forcing his head back to expose his neck to me.

"Don't you want to share a cozy tent? Don't you want me to keep you warm?" I continued, trailing my lips down the center of his throat.

"Yes." He breathed, his words sending a shiver down my spine as well.

"Please come with me?" I asked, my voice softer and more seductive than I thought I was capable of, "Please, Stiles." I asked as I planted a kiss in the small section of chest that was exposed by his v-neck tee-shirt.

"Yes." He breathed again, this time his words came out as more of a moan and I felt arousal beginning to course through my stomach. I had gotten my agreement and if I went any further, I wouldn't want to stop. I took this as the perfect moment to quit so I stepped back, disconnecting my body from Stiles' completely, leaving him slack-jawed with a dazed look in his eyes.

"Good." I said, smirking largely at him.

"Hey!" He complained, "so not fair."

I just smirked at him again and leaned in to plant a chaste kiss directly on his lips, feeling him smile beneath me. For the first time in a long time, I felt a rush of nothing but happiness and contentment and I wrapped my arms around my mate.


	7. 7

Chapter 7

"Good morning," I said as I crawled through Stiles window, the soft morning light bathing his room in a warm glow.

"Good morning." Stiles responded from his position in front of his closet. He was stooped down, moving scattered objects around the floor.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked as I took a seat in his desk chair to watch him.

Stiles leaned back and sat on his butt, turning around to face me. He had dark purple circles beneath his eyes and I felt a surge of guilt wash through my stomach.

"I had another nightmare," Stiles said, wrapping his arms around his knees, "a bad one. I don't like your new rule." Stiles' mouth turned down into a pout.

I stood from the desk chair and kneeled in front of him, kissing his forehead softly. I wanted so badly to break my new rule and stay with him every night, but now that our feelings were out in the open, I didn't trust myself enough to have the self-control I'd need around this beautiful, obnoxious boy, especially in a bed masked by the darkness of night.

"You know why I can't stay," I started, my heart fizzling with dread as I watched Stiles face contort into disappointment, "but maybe I can stay with you until you fall asleep and then come back in the mornings?" I offered, knowing it wouldn't be enough, but hoping that it might pacify Stiles.

"That won't work, the nightmares would come once you left." Stiles said, his voice blank. The far-off stare in his eyes scared me and I wrapped my arms around him. He hugged me back easily and held onto me tightly.

"We can try to figure out an arrangement when we get back on Sunday. I'll be there to keep the nightmares away for at least the next two nights." I soothed, rubbing his back softly. I felt him nod against my shoulder and I could feel the ripples of depression and fear emanating from his form. I knew that he was nervous to be in such close proximity to so many people at once and his nightmares really took a toll on his psyche and I felt miserable that I wasn't able to fix it. I reminded myself once again that it would be worse if we added the confusion that came with sex, especially if it happened too quickly. I promised myself that I would wait until Stiles was back to his normal self before allowing that to happen, no matter how desperately long it would take.

"Are you almost ready to go?" I asked, pulling back from the embrace to change the subject.

Stiles nodded and I pulled him to his feet. I began to gather his backpack, duffle-bag, and sleeping bag into a pile.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"I need that pillow with the green case on it and the lantern in my closet and then I'm good to go." He said. I gathered the remaining items and then helped Stiles get his backpack on over his shoulders before he adjusted himself onto his crutches. I put the strap of his duffle-bag over my shoulder, tucked his sleeping bag and pillow under my arm, and picked up the lantern from the floor before I followed him downstairs and out the door. The closer we got to his jeep, the more I noticed the charge of anxiety surrounding Stiles. I opened the passenger door and lifted Stiles into the seat by his waist with ease. I could hear him begin to grumble a protest but I quieted him with a quick, stolen kiss. I could feel the steady buzz of his nerves quiet slightly and the thought that such a simple kiss could do that to him made my heart pound. I busied myself with loading his bags into the roof compartment that I had installed yesterday after Stiles found it gathering dust in his garage and then I moved around to the driver's side.

"Hey." I said, pulling Stiles attention to me before I started the Jeep.

He just looked at me nervously and I leaned in to kiss his cheek and grab his hand. I could feel the anxiety easing just slightly and I pressed a kiss against his lips, feeling the stress melt away just a bit more.

"Do you want to tell them right away about us or do you want to wait until we're at the campsite?" I asked, letting Stiles makes the moves here.

"I'd prefer to wait until we're at the campsite. I don't want to be trapped in a car with them while they ask questions and run the risk of having a panic attack." Stiles said bluntly.

"Fair enough," I said, leaning back and removing my hand from his, "no handholding until we get there then." I joked.

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When we arrived at Scott's house, both Scott and Isaac came out laughing, throwing their bags into the rack at the top of the roof before climbing into the cramped backseat. Isaac leaned in between the seats as I started to back out of the driveway and he punched Stiles lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey, man! Long time, no see! How have you bee- Whoa! What happened to your leg?!" Isaac said, leaning over the seat to get a better look at Stiles' cast.

Without looking, I reached my hand behind me and pushed Isaac back into his seat by his chest roughly.

"I'm laying down the law right now that you are to leave Stiles alone. No questions unless you run them by me first. He's had a rough few weeks and you WILL take it easy on him. Do you understand me?" I growled, lacing authority into my voice. I could feel Stiles' surprised gaze on me and I felt the gratitude charge the air.

"Understood, boss. Yeesh." Scott said. Isaac simply stayed quiet.

After a few tense moments, Stiles spoke, "I broke it when I fell down in the shower." His voice was calm and indifferent and he never tore his eyes from the road ahead of us as he answered.

"Ouch, dude. You okay? Orrr… Uhm, Derek, can I ask Stiles if he's okay?" Isaac stumbled over his words awkwardly.

I stoke a quick glance at Stiles and saw a minor panic color his features.

"No." I said simply.

We arrived to Lydia's house then and I told Scott to go fetch her and to explain the rules with Stiles on the way to the car. He obeyed, not speaking a word until he was on his way to the door, out of Stiles' earshot before beginning his mumbled complaints that he knew my ears would catch. I rolled my eyes, suddenly becoming very annoyed with Scott. I forced the irritation down my throat and relaxed my grip on the steering wheel. I wouldn't ruin the trip before it even started.

It took ten minutes to get Lydia out of the house and loaded into the car, nestled snugly in between Isaac and Scott, much to her very clear dismay.

"Good morning, Stiles." Lydia said politely, purposely overstepping my authority. I almost growled at her, but seeing as it wasn't a question and none of her words were too personal, I let it go.

I heard Stiles heart pick up it's pace ever so slightly before he swallowed and answered, "Good morning, Lyds." Again, he never took his eyes off of the road as he answered.

After a few awkward moments of silence, Scott piped up.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I made a mix for our road-trip. I tried to put a little something for everyone on it." Scott said, pushing a CD up between the seats. The thought of listening to whatever rediculous music Scott had chosen made me want to throw the CD out the window, but I was also thankful for the distraction that it would provide. It would fill the silence and cut the uncomfortable awkward silence and hopefully help Stiles to relax a little. I took the CD, growling at the back of my throat so Scott would know I didn't like the idea, but I popped it into the player anyway.

Surprisingly, the mix that Scott had made wasn't half bad. It contained a few songs by The Black Keys, Jack White, and a few other indie bands that I hadn't heard of. Only two of the songs really rubbed me the wrong way, but since it seemed to be soothing Stiles, I kept my peace about it. After the first song, Lydia, Isaac and Scott began chatting idly to each other while I kept Stiles' silence company in the front seat.

We let the mix play through several times before we arrived at the campground at about noon. I turned to look at the teens in the back-seat as I pulled into campsite number 15, the one I had already reserved. Lydia was sleeping on Isaacs shoulder while Scott was snoozing with his cheek against the window. The only one that was awake was Isaac and he simply stared out the window. I stopped the jeep and turned off the engine which woke up Lydia and Scott.

"We're here." I said as I dismounted the Jeep easily, sliding my seat forward so Isaac, Lydia and Scott could clamber out of the back. The all began stretching their legs and backs as I walked swiftly around to Stiles' side of the car. I pulled open the door and Stiles had already unbuckled his seatbelt and was turned as far as he was able to move towards the door, ready to get out.

I suddenly felt a little awkward, not knowing how much I should help Stiles. If I offered just my hand, I was afraid it wouldn't be enough to support Stiles and he'd struggle. If I picked him up bridal style and set him on his feet, it might look weird. I looked up at Stiles and he smiled softly at me, his eyes still harboring some fear.

I held out my hand and he took it gingerly, swinging his feet out to dangle over the ground. He began to move forward like he was going to jump down and try to catch himself on one foot and I realized how stupid that would be. As he pushed himself from his seat, tongue set at the side of his mouth in concentration, I quickly placed my hand at his waist, hiding it behind the door as I slowed his descent, placing his foot securely on the ground. I reached behind him and pulled out his crutches, helping him situate his armpits over them and then I stepped away, allowing him to move himself to the picnic table at the far end of the lot where the other teens were already wandering around, exploring the small space.

"Scott, Isaac, come help set-up." I demanded gruffly. Both of them skipped over, happiness and contentment bubbling up from them after only a few minutes out in the wilderness. This feeling comforted me more than I'd have expected. Seeing my betas happy filled in gaps in my heart that I didn't realize were there.

"Lydia, behave yourself. Don't push him." I said threateningly, throwing an untrusting glance in the redhead's direction. She rolled her eyes and sat on the table next to where Stiles had settled into his seat at the bench.

I cast glances in Stiles direction every few seconds as Isaac, Scott and I unloaded the supplies. After we finished unloading the Jeep and we began setting up the tent, Scott broke into my worry.

"What is with you, dude? Why are you staring at Stiles? He's fine." Scott seemed annoyed as he asked me this.

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head and returning my gaze to the halfway raised tent, clearing my throat before finishing, "I don't want Lydia to badger him. He's really having a rough time."

I was slightly uncomfortable talking about Stiles to Scott, especially after all that Stiles told him a few days before.

"I know, dude. I can smell it." Scott wrinkled his nose at the heavy scent of fear and stress that floated through the air towards us from where Stiles sat.

"Yeah, that's a strong smell." Isaac chirped in, not ripping his eyes from the tent pole in his hands.

"What is with you two? You've been looking at him with a weird look on your face all day." Scott demanded, not beating around the bush. He knew how Stiles felt about me and he was demanding that I tell him how I felt as well.

"You'll find out soon enough." I muttered, suddenly nervous about telling the pack about Stiles and I. I refocused my attention to the tent to prevent the smell of my emotions from reaching Scott's sensitive nose.

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After we had the tent set up, the air mattresses blown up, and the sleeping bags arranged within the tent, I walked over to Lydia and Stiles.

"She bothering you?" I asked Stiles gruffly, keeping the stoic appearance for Lydia's sake.

"No. It's okay. She's being polite." Stiles said, looking over at Lydia gratefully. I could tell that Lydia had forced him to talk about things because I could feel the twitchy emotion that I wasn't able to identify. I hadn't sensed it since the first night at Stiles' house and I had thought that we had buried it deep enough that it was gone but talking to Lydia had brought it back up. I was grateful that Stiles didn't look upset though. There was comfort present in the air between them and I figured that even though Lydia had forced Stiles to speak, something in him had been relieved to let out some of his steam.

"Go help Scott and Isaac start the fire." I told Lydia.

"Why me?" She asked.

"Because although you're a smartass, you're actually smart. They're cavemen, help them." I said, rolling my eyes at her.

She grinned, happy with the backhanded compliment as she hopped lithely off the table, sauntering over to the fire pit where Scott and Isaac were stacking sticks.

I moved to sit beside Stiles, keeping a 6-inch gap between us.

"How are you?" I asked, looking at him. Trying not to let the emotions dance over my face too obviously, expressing what I could through just my eyes.

"I'm okay, actually. I'm still a bit nervous but Lydia actually helped a little." He said.

"Good. I was really worried that she'd pester you and make you worse." I admitted. Stiles just shook his head and smiled.

"So… As soon as the fire starts, I'm starting the pack meeting and everything is going to be hashed out, including our news. Are you okay with that?" I asked simply.

"Yeah," Stiles' voice was small and I heard his heart pick up pace, "Can you please tell them instead of me? I'm really nervous."

"Of course." I said, glancing at the others to make sure that they weren't looking before I moved my hand to Stiles', giving it a little squeeze before moving over the fire, which was just starting to build.

We arranged the chairs in a circle around the fire. I was flanked by Stiles on my right and Isaac on my left. Lydia and Scott sat directly across from me, Scott sitting closer to Stiles as he gave off a protective vibe. I ignored this and started the meeting.

"Thank you guys for coming. I'm glad we get this chance to bond. Since we haven't met in far too long, I want to start by allowing each of you to share any news about what is going on in your lives to catch us all up." I said, looking at the small pack in front of me. Lydia spoke first.

"Well I have some news." She said confidently. Everyone's gaze moved to her as she continued, "I got accepted to Stanford." She said smiling widely. Everyone in the group smiled too, Isaac leaning over to give her a giant wolf-hug. She laughed and the group went quiet again.

"Isaac?" I prompted, turning the floor to him.

"Hmm… Not a lot has been going on with me. I got promoted at my job to assistant manager, so that's kinda cool," Everyone nodded in agreement, "but otherwise, everything has been the same.

"Scott?" I asked.

"Not a lot for me either. My mom got a raise at the hospital so that has been good for us, but they've also cut her hours down and they're not letting her work overtime so it's working out to be about the same amount of money. However, since she doesn't work as much now, I get to see her more." I could feel strong emotions behind Scott's words as he talked about his mom and I felt my heart tighten as it brought up memories of my own mother. I swallowed hard, pushing the lump down my throat as I spoke up.

"Anyone else?" Everyone's eyes unconsciously drifted to Stiles, knowing that he clearly had the most news to tell.

His heart started to sprint while everyone looked at him and I heard him gulp twice before he opened his mouth to speak.

"You don't have to." I reminded him quietly.

He looked at me and nodded before continuing his sentence. "Clearly, I broke my leg. I was getting into the shower and I slipped. I'll have this cast for another two weeks before they switch me to a walking boot so I can lose the crutches." He said, hesitating before continuing. "And yeah, I have been having a difficult time. Derek has been helpful but I'm not there yet. I appreciate you all respecting my privacy." He sounded too formal, his words stiff.

I saw Isaac and Lydia look at me in surprise, as if it was shocking that I could ever be helpful, but Scott just glared. I gave each member a quick moment of eye contact, holding a little longer with Stiles as I saw him nod just slightly, before telling the group my own news.

"Well, I have news myself." I started, figuring out how to word what I was going to say. "I've found a mate." I said, letting the bomb drop.

I heard Isaac gasp, Lydia squeal, and Scott's mouth merely dropped open at my statement.

"Who is it?!" Lydia demanded, bouncing in her chair at the knowledge of this scandalous piece of gossip.

Again, I looked to each member of the pack before returning my gaze to Scott, speaking directly to him.

I reached over and picked up Stiles hand without looking away from Scott. I wanted him to feel my words as I spoke them. I wanted him to realize that I was going to take care of Stiles and that he could cool it with the protective best friend act. I squeezed Stiles hand once before speaking.

"Stiles."


	8. 8

Chapter 8

The silence that followed my confession was tense and the air felt tight around my entire body. The space suddenly felt so constricted as I thought about the reactions of the group and what sort of stress this could place on the bonds within the pack. Seeking relief, I glanced over at Stiles. He was fearful, obvious both in the charged air surrounding him and the expression that was twisting his features. His eyes were wide but downcast, staring tensely at the hand that was not in mine clenched in his lap. I could see the deep red flush coloring his cheeks and I immediately knew that he was even more affected by the group's reaction than I was. I squeezed his hand tightly, moving to lace his fingers through mine, holding down a shiver at how intimate that small gesture felt, before looking back up the group. I most needed to see Scott's reaction, but I forced myself to look from Isaac to Lydia first. Isaac simply looked confused, looking between Stiles and I with a look of shock on his face. Lydia looked thoughtful, a small smile breaking across her wide, red lips. I tore my gaze away and rested it on Scott's face. His face was a perfect mixture of Lydia's and Isaac's reaction, his mouth hung slack in surprise, eyebrows raised, but his eyes danced with an entire array of thoughts and emotions flickering just beneath their surface.

"Wait, so you two are gay?" Isaac asked, clearly more surprised by that implied confession than the larger situation where I had claimed Stiles to be the only one for me for the rest of my existence. I sighed silently, glad that we could start off with something a little bit easier.

"Well, I wasn't always. Maybe Kate ruined the entire gender for me." I joked.

"I've known for awhile that I was bisexual, but never really thought I would actually end up with a man." Stiles said. I was a bit surprised that he chose to speak, but I was grateful in the same breath. He wasn't leaving me alone is this difficult conversation and I needed that more than I would normally like to admit. Communication hadn't always been my strong suit.

"Can you explain mating to me?" Lydia asked, not allowing too much emotion leak into her words before she understood the implications of what I now had with Stiles.

"Well, Lydia, when a man and in this case, another man very much one man will put his-" Isaac started before I cut him off with a growl.

"Well wolves mate for life. We can fall in love and date and all of that, but once we actually claim a mate, that will be it for the rest of the wolf's life. Even if the one that he claimed didn't like him back. Stiles will forever be the only one that I love or care about to the degree that I do right now. He is the only one, forever." I explained, making sure my words were confident and serious, trying to convince both Stiles and Scott of the intensity of my feelings for Stiles.

"Woah. So not only are you gay, but you're pretty much married?" Isaac chirped, the smirk still present in his voice.

"No, we aren't married. But I think you could say that we're mutually exclusive at this point. Unless Stiles decides otherwise." I said.

"No! I mean, yeah, we're mutually exclusive. I don't want otherwise." He said in rush, eying my face as he spoke. I smiled at him modestly, not wanting the entire pack to see the wide smile that I was going to reserve specifically for Stiles.

"You realize how dangerous this is right? You lose control once, one argument on a full-moon, one supernatural enemy making it past your defense for even a moment, and Stiles is dead. Do you understand what you're dragging him into?" Scott words were dripping with venom.

I was taken aback by Scott's harshness and I had to blink a few times while I processed his reaction, deciding carefully what to say.

"I understand that. I hate that I chose him because I want nothing more than for Stiles to have a safe, happy, and fulfilling life and I don't know how well I can live up to that. I didn't choose this though, claiming a mate just happens without regard to what you consciously want. The only relief that I can find in the guilt that I feel for doing this to him is that I have a great pack that is just as willing to jump in front of a bullet for Stiles as I am. I will do everything in my power to make sure that Stiles is safe, happy, and content, but I think that it will sometimes be a pack-wide challenge. I expect all of you to love and protect him as I do, and as each of you chooses a mate, you will be extended the same courtesy. We aren't just friends, we're family, more closely knit than any existing human bond." I said, speaking fluidly so no one got the opportunity to interrupt me.

I looked pointedly at Scott as I finished, letting him know without a doubt that my speech had been directed to him. As our eyes met, he must have finally grasped how serious I was because his hard expression softened and he gave me a small smile. Even though the scowl that covered his face before had melted away, I could still smell the faint hint of suspicion coming off of him. I knew then that the only way to convince Scott would be to prove it to him over time.

Although Scott's suspicion towards me was irritating, I was impressed by his dedication to protect his best friend. It may have annoyed me, but it reminded me of how much Scott cared about Stiles too, a small proof of his commitment to Stiles' safety and well-being and for that, I was thankful.

"Wow. That's actually really amazing. Congratulations, you two!" Lydia exclaimed, letting her voice jump up three octaves as she clapped her hands in joy. Isaac and Scott laughed, breaking the tension that was holding us in our places around the fire. I chuckled lightly and thanked Lydia and I even saw Stiles smile at her.

"Okay, well now that we got that off of our chests, time to have some fun! Who wants to go swimming?" I said, releasing the group from the meeting.

Scott and Isaac were up before I had even finished my sentence, jogging back to the tent to strip off their shoes and socks, tossing them haphazardly by the door. Lydia rose next, walking over to the two werewolves and shoving them aside as she stooped into the tent, zipping it shut behind herself. Scott and Isaac were tearing their shirts off roughly, already betting on who'd make it to the water first and who'd jump the furthest off of the short dock as they jostled each other in an attempt to slow the other down.

I stood and stooped down to Stiles now that the others were gone, pulling him forward in his camping chair to hug me. He held on to me tight, pressing his face against my neck.

"I love you." He breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

I pulled back to place a hand on his cheek and look him in the eyes as I answered, "You are everything to me."

He hugged me again and I lifted him to his good foot. After another moment of embracing, I maneuvered within his grasp quickly, turning my body around so my back was to him without slipping from the cradle of his arms around my neck and stooped a little.

"Hop on." I said, and Stiles obeyed, gripping me tighter before pushing off pitifully from his good foot. I reached back and tucked my hands behind his knees, holding him up.

"Wait, I can't swim with my cast on." Stiles said, annoyance coloring his voice.

"I have a surprise for you to remedy that." I said, smirking.

"What is it?" He said curiously, not completely succeeding in masking his excitement.

"You'll see. I'm going to go set you on the dock while I get it ready." I said, stepping up the two easy steps to the wooden panelling of the dock.

I set Stiles at the edge of the very end of the dock, helping him to get situated with his casted foot resting on the dock in front of him as he let his good leg dangle over the side into the water. Once he was settled, I ran back to the Jeep and pulled out the raft that I had stowed there. I grabbed the air pump and waited for it to inflate. Once it was finished, I carried it back to the dock, sneaking up behind Stiles and tossing it over his head into the water in front of him. Some droplets splashed up onto his leg and I laughed at his surprised stutters of protest.

Without speaking I pulled Stiles to his feet and helped him stand steady while he pulled his shirt over his head. I wrapped an arm around his waist to lift him just an inch or two off the ground as I stooped to quickly pull off his shoe and sock before placing him back in.

"Okay, smart guy, how are we going to do this? He asked, eyeing the raft that was now floating slowly away from the dock. I bent down at the very edge of the dock and stuck my leg out, catching the very edge of the raft and dragged it back up to the dock. Then, I turned and scooped Stiles up quickly, earning me a gasp, yelp, and giggle from Stiles, before bending down and carefully placing him in the boat, doing my best not to jostle it around so as to prevent water from getting into the sides. I had made sure to choose a raft that was well-protected from water with high sides and thick lining.

"That was easier than I thought." Stiles said, grinning up at me. I grinned back and felt my heart warm at the genuine smile that graced his fragile lips.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"I love it. It's genius!" Stiles said.

I flashed one more smile at him before I told him to hold on. I backed up a few steps, crouching down before pushing off with all of my might, springing easily into the air before swan-diving cleanly over Stiles and slicing through the water about 8 feet past where Stiles bobbed. I let myself continue to slice through the water, feeling the pressure of the depth start to press on my ears before turning to kick myself back up to the surface.

I swam easily over to Stiles, a bit excited to be able to show off my swimming skills. I felt like I was 13 again, performing all sorts of tricks to get my crush's attention, courting them, showing off to make them like me. It was all silly but I couldn't seem to care. I had been so unhappy since the death of my parents that I almost forgot what it had felt like to laugh and smile and feel something in my chest besides fear or anger. I had closed everyone out of my life for so many years and now this frail, delicate human boy has managed to breach my carefully built and heavily guarded walls and now that he was in, I didn't think that I would ever be able to survive if he left. Upon breaking through my barriers, Stiles brought with him all of the emotions that I had thought were long gone in me.

I smiled at Stiles as I approached his raft, kicking up hard so I could rest my forearms on the edge of the boat. I shook my head quickly, spraying the water from my hair all over his face and chest.

"Agh! Hey! Cool it, Wolfy!" He laughed, covering his face with his arms, "That was impressive by the way."

I smiled again, glad that he found my dive impressive. I looked up at him, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. He truly was radiant right now, especially since he was glistening with the water droplets that now clung to his pale skin. The sun looked like it beamed right through him, shining out in every direction through his skin like he was made of crystal. I felt my breath catch as I took in Stiles appearance at this moment. His messy, brown hair was shiny and his skin had a healthy glow replacing the greyish pallor that I was beginning to worry was permanent. He already looked like he had gained a bit of weight back since I had been forcing him to eat at every meal. He was nowhere near where he was before, but the sharp edges of his ribs were less noticible, now just subtle ripples under the skin. The skin over his chest looked better too, as the padding between his skin and his sternum slowly grew. He was beautiful already and he was getting more beautiful every day. I was struck with awe as I took in how much progress Stiles had already made in just the two weeks since I'd found him at his worst.

"What are you staring at?" Stiles asked, his scent giving away that he was feeling shy.

"You look beautiful right now." I said, tasting the strange words on my lips. Such sweet compliments were not something that I was aware I even had in my repertoire of phrases and I felt a little awkward letting it out of my mouth.

Stiles must have agreed because he blushed deep red, clearly embarrassed by my words before replying, "Thank you."

Stiles leaned sideways in his raft to kiss the top of my head, regardless of how wet it was. I could feel the warmth from his lips even through the cold locks of hair that separated us and I could feel a tingle as he pulled away.

"You're beautiful too, y'know." He said, trying to feign nonchalance but not quite suceeding.

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I could feel my ears and neck heating and I saw him smirk at my reaction. I rolled my eyes and flashed a quick grin at him before I let myself slip back down into the water only to pop up again in front of the raft, ready to pull it the hundred yards downstream to where the rope swing, Scott, and Isaac were.

"Wait!" I heard a female voice call, turning to see Lydia.

She was wearing walking quickly, taking long hurried strides. In any other outfit this would have been a very appropriate walk, but in the small, perfectly fitted blue bikini, it was incredibly scandalous. Her breasts were pushed together and up, creating a soft line of cleavage that fell down the deep V where the two cups came together. Her hurried steps had them bouncing precariously and I worried that one of them might slip out. The steps also showed off her long, sculpted legs and accentuated her bottom, which was moving in a similar fashion to her chest.

The strangest part of this whole vision was that it did nothing for me. I found absolutely none of it attractive. Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to tear my eyes away and I'd be having fantasies dancing through my head. Granted, I would have squashed them immediately, but it would have taken effort to resist thinking about her. Now, though, I wanted no inch of it and I looked down to Stiles who was just turning his head back towards me. He widened his eyes at me comically, making a sort of "yikes" face. I smiled at him largely, glad to see that he didn't seem to especially want it either. I was worried for a moment though, because I knew that he used to be completely in love with Lydia but it appeared as though he only had eyes for me now and that thought made my heart jump.

"Hey, can you tow me over to the rope swing? You're a big, tough werewolf, you should be able to pull us both!" Lydia called out to us she approached the edge of the dock.

"Sure, but you're gonna have to get your pretty hair wet." I teased.

"Oh, HA-HA-HA. I'm not quite the princess you all seem to think I am!" She said, just before flinging herself off the dock in a cannonball, making a big splash that reached back up onto the dock.

It was a good three seconds before her bright red hair surfaced again, followed by her unbelievably white skin which looked even more pale against the dark water lit by the bright sun. She swam over to us swiftly, but not as quickly as me. The way she swam indicated that she had actually trained as a swimmer at some point and I found that interesting. I never would have taken Lydia as the athletic type. She approached the raft and rested her elbows up on the raft as I had done a few moments ago, only she was positioned at the back, just beside Stiles' head.

I made a grumbling complaint that wasn't loud enough for either of them to make out my words in order to keep up appearances for Lydia's sake before grabbing the tow rope at the front of the raft, pulling it over my shoulder to hold it in a tight fist over my chest as I swam using one arm and my legs. Even with the weight of the raft, Stiles, and Lydia, I was still able to pull us quickly through the water. It was only a minute or two before we approached the rocky outcropping for the rope swing. Lydia wordlessly released the raft and swam over to the shore, pulling herself up on the closest rock.

"I'm going to float you out here towards the middle so you can watch without getting wet. Is that alright?" I asked Stiles.

"Yeah that's great." He said, and I could hear the happiness in his voice.

"I'm going to go jump off a few times but if you need me, just call my name. It doesn't have to be loud, I'll hear it." I said, turning and moving up the side of the raft so I could be close to Stiles' face.

"Okay. Have fun." Stiles said, smiling.

I reached in and mussed up his hair, earning me a small laugh that sounded better than any music before I dropped down under the water, towing the raft a few feet further out before letting go and turning back towards shore, swimming quickly in the water. I came up for air halfway between where Stiles floated and the teenagers on the shore fought over who got to swing on the rope first. I swam the rest of the way above the water, swinging my arms over my head in large motions, pulling myself up to the first rocks with speed that would make olympic swimmers look like preschool swim students.

The afternoon went by quickly with all of us taking turns doing flips off of the rope swing, us werewolves obviously having the most impressive tricks. I have to admit though, Lydia wasn't bad, she was clearly very adept in the water. I could hear Stiles clapping and hollering from his raft and was glad that he seemed to be feeling better. It had been so strange to see him so shut off and scared at the pack meeting. It wasn't a look that I was used to on the outgoing, obnoxious boy. Now, though, in the middle of the river basking in the sun with his pack entertaining him, he looked an awful lot like the boy he had been before everything had taken a wrong turn.

After almost two hours at the rope swing, I told the pack that we should head back and start working on putting together lunch so we could dry off and maybe go for a hike or something in the evening. They all agreed and swam to Stiles raft, Scott and Isaac swimming alongside the raft as I towed Stiles and Lydia back to the dock. The two werewolves reached up and pulled themselves out of the water and onto the dock with easy but I could very easily tell that Lydia wouldn't be able to make it up by herself. I swam up to her reaching up for the lip of the dock, her fingertips just missing it as she treaded. I quickly wrapped my hands around her thighs and lifted her straight up, her torso and hips leaving the water. She was now waist level with the deck and could get her palms down on it enough that I could let go and she could kick her legs up over the side on her own. I swam back over to Stiles, pulling his raft as close to the dock as possible.

"That kinda made me jealous." He said suddenly, a hard look on his face, "I know that I'm your mate and you don't like Lydia or anything but watching you touch her made me feel weird."

I felt a pang of regret, wishing I would have just let Scott and Isaac hoist her up from the docks. It didn't even cross my mind to consider how Stiles might feel about it, I just instinctively helped my packmate.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think about it, I was just trying to be helpful. I didn't mean anything by it. You're the only one I want. Not one iota of my attention is on anyone but you." I said softly, trying to soothe the jealousy from him.

It seemed to work, and his face relaxed. I kissed his arm before I turned to pull myself up onto the dock, shaking off as best I could before reaching down to take Stiles' hands. He grabbed them tightly and I lifted him from the raft by his hands, pulling him up as I stood. I gave a small tug to bring him towards me and onto the dock and that placed us face to face, our chests touching. I felt sparks flying under my skin wherever we had contact and I could taste the sudden intimacy of this moment in the air. Being this close to Stiles was intoxicating and I hesitated a moment before putting him down, using his lack of mobility to my advantage. I leaned the two inches it took to put us together and pressed my lips to his. My lips were cold from the water but his were warmed up from the sun. His skin was unbelievably warm and without my consent, my body released a soft "mmmm." as I leaned into the kiss. I could feel Stiles' heart pick up and as soon as I did, I broke the kiss with a sigh, setting Stiles down onto his good foot.

"Wow. That was… unexpectedly amazing." He said, looking at me with a dazed expression. I smirked and kissed his cheek before releasing him to grab up the raft, pulling it onto the dock to dry out.

"Come on, goofball." I said, before squatting down in front of Stiles so he could jump onto my back.

I carried him back to the campsite, taking in Lydia and Isaac's "aww" expression and Scott's eye-roll before I carried Stiles into the tent, plopping him gently onto one of the air mattresses.

"go ahead and get dressed," I said, gathering up my clothes, "I'll meet you outside."

He nodded and I zipped the tent, walking past the campsite and into the woods a few yards to get behind a small line of bushes to change out of my swim trunks and into some boxers and jeans. When I returned. Stiles was pulling open the zipper of the tent and I jogged over to help him. He took my hand for support but otherwise managed to hop out on his own, albeit clumsily, before making his way over to the fire pit, plopping into one of the camping chairs. I reached into the tent and grabbed a tee shirt, throwing it on quickly before returning to help Scott and Isaac prepare the food.

After a half-hour of effort we had a massive feast before us. There were 4 different bags of chips, a mountain of hot dogs and burgers that we cooked over the fire, a tub of potato salad, fruit salad, and sodas. Everyone's stomachs were audibly aching for the food so we all dug in before we had even finished cooking all of the hot dogs. It was silent for a long time while everyone stuffed their face, each of us desperate to get some food into our stomachs.

It took about ten minutes for anyone to be full-enough to at least slow down and speak without food in their mouth.

"Dude, aren't you going to eat anything?" I heard Scott ask, looking worriedly over at Stiles who was picking apart the hamburger bun that sat on his plate.

"Yeah, I'm eating." He said defensively, placing one of the small pieces of bread into his mouth as if to prove himself to Scott and the group.

"Stiles. Please." I asked quietly, trying to draw the least attention possible. I knew Stiles would grasp what I wanted and how serious I was.

He looked up at me and his face softened from the defensive scowl that he had put in place for Scott. I could see sadness and guilt behind his eyes and I could see the struggle he was fighting in his head. I wanted so badly to reach out and scoop him up into my lap and hold him close. My lips tingled to kiss him all over and melt all of his pain away but I could feel the gazes of the other three teenagers on us and it was making me feel claustrophobic.

"Please, Stiles." I asked, softening my voice a little, knowing I'd have to do something really gruff later to regain my facade for the group.

He nodded simply, letting his face go slack and that same dreary deadness seep into his eyes. I shivered at that look as he looked back down at his food, forcing himself to eat. He had been doing so well, eating every meal with me. For some reason, this camping trip was taking a bigger toll on him that I had realized. I had thought that after we got through the initial awkwardness that was to be expected after breaking news as big as me taking Stiles as my mate, Stiles would find comfort in his being around his friends. That is why I was so confused. Stiles didn't seem uncomfortable around the pack. In fact, he seemed pretty at ease around them. However, the misery that was present in his eyes on that first night that I came in through his window was back. Not only could I smell the raw emotions coming off of him, but I could feel his depression in the air, thick and muggy like Florida heat. I felt it against my skin and balled up in my throat every time that I pulled a breath in near Stiles.

I thought about whether or not I should ask him about it. I wanted to understand why the sadness was still in his eyes and why this trip seemed to make it so much worse but I could sense how fragile Stiles was right now. I didn't want to risk saying something that might set him over the edge, especially on a pack-bonding camping trip. Perhaps it'd be better if I just did what I could to make sure that Stiles had the best time possible while we were out here and ask questions after we got home to where he felt more comfortable. Then again, if I could just figure out what was wrong, maybe I'd be able to fix it and that'd make the rest of the trip that much better.

I wavered back and forth in my head while I ate my food slowly, not chancing a glance up to Stiles until I was finished eating, although I still hadn't made a decision at that point. I took his plate from him along with the plates from the rest of the teenagers and put them in the trash bag that I had nailed to the large oak tree bordering our campsite earlier in the afternoon. I could see the sun sinking below the tree line, not setting yet, but falling out of view from us, leaving the entire campsite in an orange-hued shade. I walked back over to the circle and piled a few more logs onto the fire before settling back into my chair next to Stiles, examining him closely.

He looked lovely in this lighting. The orange hue of the air was subtle, glazing over the skin of his cheeks and forehead warmly while casting cool shadows under his eyes and lips, shadows that were subtle and soft, not deep enough to look eerie or skeletal, but just a subtle change in temperature, a coolness that contrasted the warmth. Stiles looked at me then, probably feeling my gaze on him, and I marveled at what the light did to his eyes. His amber irises were even further contrasted by the cool shadows around his eyes and the sun illuminated them beautifully. The color looked so bright and intense that they seemed to glow from within and I felt my breathing quicken. The entire scenario around us seemed to melt away, the campsite, Scott, Isaac, Lydia, the sun, the earth, everything was gone. All that I saw and all that I could think about were the two perfect glowing rings of light that warmed me more intensely than any ray from the sun ever had. I was sucked in further and further and the love that gushed through my heart was so strong that I felt my breathing catch. Everything around Stiles became blacker and blacker, putting more and more emphasis on the captivating glow on his face until Lydia pulled me from whatever trance I had sunk into.

"Derek, are you okay?" She asked, her voice actually sounding concerned.

"Yeah, dude, you alright? Your heart is pounding, am I missing something?" Scott said.

The color of the world around me snapped back into place. I shook my head, unwillingly breaking my eye contact with Stiles before moving my gaze to Scott, Isaac, and Lydia. Each of their faces clearly expressed their concern. I didn't like the weight of their gazes on me so I turned back to look at Stiles, focusing on the surroundings behind him as I took in his expression so whatever just happened didn't happen again. He looked even more concerned than the others and I quickly dropped my eyes to the ground, pulling my eyebrows down.

"Derek?" Stiles said, his voice quaking slightly.

"I'm okay." I said, my words coming out just a bit sharper than I had intended.

Without looking up, I scooped up Stiles' hand and held onto it tightly. I had no idea what that was. I had gotten so lost in Stiles' eyes and as I thought back to the way his face looked as the light faded around him, I grew scared myself. Never had I felt like that before and I'm not sure why something as simple as noticing Stiles' eyes had brought on such a trance. I could feel my fingers trembling as they wrapped around Stiles' and I felt suddenly weak, I let my shoulders sag a little and I drew in a deep breath to try to steady myself.

"Derek, what was that?" Scott asked, stepping forward to put a hand on my shoulder, trying to push me back so I'd sit up and look at him.

I snapped a hand up to his wrist to pull his hand away but his hand didn't leave my shoulder. I pulled against him but I couldn't budge his hand. Scott was, in this moment, stronger than me and I let my fingers slip off of his skin, dropping my hand into my lap and I drew in another deep breath, feeling my heart quicken. I didn't understand what was happening. I had gone into a bizarre trance and now I felt a strange weakness all over my body. Fear was kicking my heart into high gear and I knew Scott could hear it. I contemplated saying something but I couldn't think of what I could say that would ease their worry. Besides, I was starting to feel dizzy and I didn't want to waste what strength remained on words.

"Isaac, something is really wrong, help me," Scott said frantically, shoving me back a bit so he could get a shoulder under me. Isaac followed suit and together they lifted me from the chair and laid me on my back in the grass. By now, Lydia was by my head and I could see Stiles hopping into my shrinking peripheral vision down by my hip.

"Isaac, get some ice from the cooler and wrap it in a towel. Scott, get me a bottle of water and something to prop his head up with, like a backpack or something." Lydia commanded the two wolves immediately, wasting no time. I could feel her fingers poking at my eyelids, lifting them up further so she could see my pupils but I lifted a hand to swat her away.

"What can I do?" Stiles asked, his voice panicked.

"Try to help me hold him down, I need him to lay still. Try to talk to him, keep him focused." She said. I wondered idly if she knew what was going on with me or if she was just reacting as she felt appropriate. Stiles kneeled, placing his knee on my forearm to restrain me and Lydia did the same. I turned my head away from Lydia, trying to crane my neck so she'd get her cold fingers off of me. It made me uncomfortable and made the dizziness that I was feeling behind my now closed eyelids worse.

"Derek," I could feel his fingers slipping into mine, "What's going on? Can you hear me? Please open your eyes, Derek, look at me."

His voice was soothing against the pounding in my head and I pulled my eyelids open to look at him. I felt like I was fighting gravity trying to keep my eyes open. I saw Stiles' face, blurry and shrinking in the tunnel that was forming at the edges of my vision but he still looked beautiful.

"Derek! Hey, please stay with me, can you talk? What's going on? Derek? Hey!" Stiles voice was absolutely frantic and I wished that I could find the strength to say something to calm him down, but I couldn't find my mouth. I focused on him as long as I could before I felt my eyelids slip shut on their own, the sounds of Stiles calling my name and the commotion around me distorting until I heard nothing anymore and I lost consciousness.


	9. 9

Chapter 9

I woke up slowly, my senses coming online one at a time. At first, all I heard was the sound of five steady heartbeats, all but two of them slowed down to the rhythm of sleep. I could hear the crickets chirping outside and the rustle of the leaves in the trees overhead before I was able to hear the sound that made me open my eyes.

"Derek?" Stiles' voice whispered, so soft it was almost silent. I blinked my eyes open, seeing darkness around me. I could make out the shapes of the top of the tent before I turned my head to meet Stiles' gaze. I could see his outline and a few small details on his face. I blinked a few more times, drawing in a deep breath before stretching my limbs out a little, feeling the stiffness begin to loosen from my joints. 

"Oh my god, Derek!" Stiles' hands were around me instantly, his arms squeezing at my neck tightly and his entire body pressed into the side of mine. 

I shifted, rolling onto my side, glad that I could do so with ease now, the weakness seemingly gone. I wrapped my arms around Stiles and squeezed his small frame against mine, nuzzling my face into the top of his head. I felt his body trembling, jerking lightly as he cried. I moved my hand to the back of his head and 'shhh'ed him quietly, trying to soothe his worries.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried." Stiles said, louder this time. 

"Hmmm? Derek? Derek!" I saw Lydia roll over and open her eyes, taking in the sight of Stiles and I before she gasped and jerked up, waking Isaac and Scott in her haste. 

"Derek's awake?" Isaac asked from the far edge of the tent, peering past Scott and Lydia at Stiles and I. I moved to let Stiles go now that everyone was awake but he clung onto me harder. I sat up carefully, pulling Stiles across my lap so he could keep his arms wrapped around my neck and I laid his legs over mine and held on to him tightly. 

"Derek?" Scott asked, sitting up and scooting forward to speak to me. 

I looked up at him hesitantly. I wasn't sure what had happened to me earlier in the evening and I had no idea about what had transpired since then. I hated feeling helpless and that is exactly how I felt in this moment. 

"Do you have any idea what happened today?" He asked.

I shook my head in response, careful not to jostle Stiles who was no longer crying but still wasn't willing to pull his face from my neck.

"Tell me what happened after I blacked out and I'll see if I can somehow piece it together." I said, keeping my tone flat and even. 

"Okay," Scott started, "well, you went really pale and I could hear your heart racing faster than I'd ever heard it before so I knew something was wrong. Then you were so weak you couldn't even push my hand away so I knew I had to get you on the ground. That's when we laid you in the grass. It wasn't long until you passed out and as soon as you were out, your heart went back to normal. We tried to wake you up but you wouldn't wake up. You mumbled a few times like you were just sleeping. By this time, it was dark so we moved you into the tent. I called Deaton to ask if he knew what may have happened. He said he would come up here and check on you. However, he called about an hour after that and said that there was a major accident blocking the entire freeway so he wouldn't be able to get here until morning." 

I nodded as Scott spoke, focusing on his words intently. I felt Stiles shift halfway through Scott's speech, moving his head back to look at my face, but I kept my eyes trained on Scott. I did, however, squeeze my arms around Stiles' waist a little bit tighter. 

"How long have I been out?" I asked. I saw a light shine at the back of the tent and Isaac's face was suddenly illuminated by his phone screen. 

"Well it's 1:16 right now." He said, clicking the screen off, "So about 6 hours or so?" 

I was taken aback by this. If this had been something as simple as me fainting, which didn't seem likely anyway, werewolves don't faint, then it wouldn't have lasted 6 hours. It came on so suddenly too, completely out of nowhere. I racked my brain, thinking of every possible scenario that i could imagine but i wasn't able to put together even a halfway reasonable explanation. I had been nowhere near wolfsbane, I would have smelled it. Besides, I wasn't doing anything different before I passed out besides looking at Stiles. Falling in love with Stiles, actually. I wondered if it had something to do with the process of picking a mate. My mother and father had taught me about wolfsbane, about all sorts of supernatural creatures although I'm sure that there are a whole slew of creatures that I didn't know about. They never told me much about what happens when you pick a mate, though. I was too young at the time. All that they had told me was that one day I'd feel the bond and I'd know it the moment it happened and I'd be with that person, well they had said wolfactually, for the rest of my life. 

"Any ideas?" Lydia asked as she took in my pensive expression.

"No. I don't know what that was. It couldn't have been wolfsbane, I wasn't anywhere near it. I was fine one minute and out the next." I said.

"Well what was going on when you went into that bizarre trance beforeyou passed out?" Isaac asked, scooting forward from his spot at the far end of the tent to get a better look at me in the dark space.

"Umm," I hesitated, feeling the pink blush creep up my cheeks, "well, I looked over at Stiles and the sun was hitting him in an interesting way and it looked…nice," I gritted my teeth, not liking that I sounded like such a lovestruck fool, "and anyway, he looked over at me and the sun was reflecting off of his eyes really brightly and everything around his eyes just went darker and darker until all I could see were his irises. Then you snapped me out of it, Lydia. Then, I passed out." I explained quickly, working to keep my voice rough to try to salvage the dignity that remained after admitting that I had been staring lovingly off into Stiles' radiant eyes as I got lost in a trance of his beauty.

"Really?" Stiles asked quietly, shock coloring his voice.

I turned to look at him, seeing his expression more easily now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. There was a deep pool of unspoken emotions stirring behind his eyes. The expression on his face was somewhere in between worried and awestruck, which made my heart flutter. 

"Yeah. That's what happened." I said simply, still trying to regain my tough shell in front of the others after having to admit something that I was so embarrassed of. 

It's not that I was embarrassed that I got caught staring at Stiles. I could stare at him all I wanted, he was mine. Plus, I wanted to stare at him all the time regardless of who was watching. I was not ashamed of my feelings for him. However, I've never been good at expressing what I'm feeling and being forced to say what was happening out loud made me feel soft and I didn't like feeling that way.

"Deaton said he'd be here in the morning. We should all go back to sleep." I demanded, lacing authority in my voice so we could put this conversation to rest, at least, until tomorrow when I had to rehash it all to Deaton.

The others made noises of agreement and shuffled back into their places. I watched for a moment, making sure that all of my betas settled in okay before laying Stiles down beside me and placing my head back down on his pillow beside him.

"Get some sleep." I whispered softly as I kissed his nose, hoping none of the others were watching.

"I'm worried about you. I don't know that I'll be able to sleep." He replied, staying just as quiet.

"I'm okay, I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here in perfect shape when you wake up." I said soothingly, wrapping my arms around him as I pulled the blanket back up around his shoulders. 

He looked at me for a moment, examining my face closely as if he were looking for some indication that I wasn't okay before nodding and resting his temple on my bicep. I slipped one hand down to his lower back and lifted his shirt enough to reach a small portion of skin at his hip. Hidden by the thick blanket, I ran my fingertips back and forth along the skin there as I kissed the top of his head. As soon as he was settled in, I felt the weight of exhaustion over me and I let myself slip into sleep as soon as Stiles' breathing evened out. 

I awoke to hand in my hair. I could feel Stiles' fingertips dragging lazily against my scalp and I lifted my head to look down at him blearily. 

"Good morning. You survived." Stiles said, smiling brightly at me. 

I couldn't help but smile in return as I stretched my limbs straight up and down, feeling energy flowing through my lethargic, sleep-stiffened muscles.

"I did, indeed. Good morning." I said, sitting up and looking around the tent. 

Scott, Lydia, and Isaac had already gone outside, leaving Stiles and I alone. realizing this, I decided to take advantage of the small opportunity. It was rare to get time alone with Stiles on this camping trip and I didn't intend to waste any bit that we got. Knowing that the pack was right outside kept my head in a better place so I didn't push too far with Stiles. I figured that this was the perfect time to lean in for a kiss.

I looked down at Stiles where he was still sprawled over both his pillow and mine and smiled again. His answering grin was all the incentive I needed and I placed my hand on the pillow beside his head and leaned down, catching his gaze. I saw a twinkle enter his eye as he realized what I was doing and I closed my eyes, parting my lips just inches before his mouth when the zipper of the tent slid open quickly. I froze, snapping my eyes open and Stiles looked at me with an expression that clearly read, "oops." 

"Hey, is Derek up yet? I heard your heart- Oh." Isaac stopped talking as soon as he saw us and I considered what this looked like through his eyes.

Stiles was laying on his back and I was leaned over the top of him, our bodies touching at our knees and hips. I had my mouth hovering just inches above his and I felt Stiles' hand at my waist, feather-light. I snapped my head to the side and slipped Isaac a glare.

"Woops! Sorry to interrupt!" He said in a rush, backing out of the tent quickly, sliding the zipper closed quickly. 

I turned back to Stiles and sighed when I realized he was giggling. The moment was over and I sat back up, pushing the blankets off of my legs. 

"Is he up?" I heard Scott ask from a distance, probably by the picnic bench at the far end of the campsite. 

"Umm yes. Very much awake." Isaac responded awkwardly. 

I couldn't decide whether I should snicker or blush at his response, knowing that it wouldn't be too hard to guess what the others assume he saw. I flickered my eyes back down to Stiles to gauge his reaction, knowing that he'd be able to hear Isaac although it'd probably be more muffled through his human ears. He was blushing, obviously a little embarrassed, but he had a smirk on his face. Seeing this, I let a small chuckle escape my lips and I leaned down to kiss his nose.

After a small moment of hesitation, I slid my nose against his, moving my lips down to hover over his before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. I allowed his upper lip to rest in the small valley between my own lips and I felt him follow suit with my bottom lip. I soaked up every detail that I could about this kiss, committing the silky texture of his lips and the gentle pressure of his fingertips at my waist to memory. Stiles' lips parted ever so slightly to press the tip of his tongue gently against my lower lip and I felt a strange sensation in my face. There was a tingly rush, as if all of the blood was being pulled down into my lips. The feeling reminded me of the g-force effect that sometimes happened on rollercoasters or long drops. The strange tingling increased, rushing faster and pulling from my scalp and neck now. I froze, completely motionless, and to be honest, a little scared as the feeling spread into my shoulders, becoming a painful tug at every nerve and blood vessel. I had to use my arms to pull my face back away from Stiles' quickly, yanking my body away from his as I sat back on my heels, gasping to pull air through my now constricted throat.

"What's wro-Oh my god!" Stiles shouted as his eyes focused on me after my rough departure from the kiss.

He jolted up, scrambling forward to me, looking closely at my face at the same moment, I heard Scott and Isaac running to the tent. 

"Umm, can we come in? Is everything okay?" They asked, hesitating just outside the door. I heard Lydia's footsteps fast approaching as Stiles hurriedly allowed them entrance to the tent. 

"Look! Look at his face!" Stiles exclaimed as soon as he was able to see Scott's face through the gap in the tent where Isaac was already crawling in.

What was wrong with my face? What the hell had just happened to me? Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? I looked over at Scott, trying to keep my face calm but between the gasping and the unbreakable panic that I knew was present in my eyes, I definitely wasn't convincing. 

"Woah," Scott and Isaac both breathed in unison, taking a step back.

"What's-wrong with my-face?" I asked sternly, between my frantic pulls of air through my tight throat. 

"Can you breathe?" Stiles asked, placing a hand over my chest and another against the side of my neck.

I nodded in response, adding, "barely-but enough-I'm okay." I reassured, looking back up to Scott, willing him to answer my question with my eyes. 

When he simply stared at me in horror, I reminded him of my question, "My face?!"

My tone was angry and that made Scott begin to try to stutter out an explanation.

"Umm it's covering in lines. Like black marks-" He was cut off by a slender, pale hand shoving a mirror past him, holding the small plastic frame out to me. I grabbed it roughly, holding it up to inspect my face. 

For a moment, I couldn't even recognize my own face. There were deep purple circles around my eyes and a bruise-like greyness in all of the hollows of my face, my temples, my cheeks, around the edges of my nose and the dip between my lips and chin. The remaining skin was much more pale than I was used to seeing it, having taken over an ashen appearance. The most concerning though, were the dark blurred lines covering my face and neck in a web-like pattern. It looked as if all of the blood in the vessels along my face had been replaced by used motor oil, thick and dark. Even the thin vessels at the edges of my eyes were now black instead of red. I turned my face, to the side, seeing the lines looking even angrier along the skin of my eyelids and ear, where the blood was closer to the surface. 

I dropped the mirror and began pulling air in more frantically, feeling a tight pressure around my chest, yanking my lungs shut and I pitched forward, keeping my face from hitting the floor of the tent with one hand while I grabbed at my chest with the other.

"Derek?! Your heartbeat is out of control, what's going on, can you breathe? Can you speak?" Isaac was questing, placing a hand on my back.

This gesture made the heavy pressure tighten and I swatted his arm away roughly, probably leaving a bruise against his forearm. 

"Derek?! Derek, what's going on?!" Stiles voice was breaking through the haze and I choked out a response, "P-panic-'tack?" I said, my voice changing the statement into a question. 

"Oh. Oh, okay, Derek, look at me." He said, I lifted my head and opened my eyes, the room was spinning, tipping back and forth violently and I felt my stomach tighten up, the nausea gripping at my guts. I willed my eyes to find Stiles and I focused on him. His face became fractionally clearer and I tried to hold on to that. 

I felt his hand tear my own away from my chest. He placed my palm against his own chest, forcing a calm expression over his face.

"Focus on my pulse, Derek. Count the beats. Slow your breathing, match mine." He said. 

I felt his pulse quick under my palm, but not nearly as fast as mine and I started counting, only about half of the numbers that I tried to say even came out with any noise." I slowed my breathing as best I could, still dragging in deep, desperate breaths but I locked in on him. 

"Good, keep counting, don't stop. It'll stop soon, deep breaths, in. out. in. out." Stiles instructed confidently. I kept my eyes locked onto Stiles' and kept slowing my breathing. Slowly, I felt more and more air sink down into my lungs, finally dipping past the tight constriction on my throat. Once my breathing was down to fairly normal pace and I felt like I could breathe on my own, I dropped my hand, collapsing my shoulders down. I let my head fall into my hands and I slipped my toes out from under my feet, letting myself fall into a pose resembling a yogic child's pose.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked after no one else dared speak or move.

I nodded my head without lifting it from my palms. I could feel a tingling numbness in my fingertips and toes and I knew that my arms were trembling from weakness. 

There was a long silence before I lifted my head, sliding my hands palm down along the floor of the tent, straightening them slowly, still trembling. I glanced up at the worried faces of my pack and let out a deep breath before I spoke.

"I need to lay down for awhile. Someone come get me when Deaton gets here." I commanded, trying to sound authoritative but after they witnessed my episode of weakness, I could feel my words taking on a plea rather than a demand. 

"Okay. One of us should keep watch over you, though, in case something else happens." Lydia spoke up.

The others nodded in agreement and moved to leave the tent, leaving Stiles behind. 

"I'm sorry." I said quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"Sorry? Why would you be sorry?" He asked, shyly sliding his fingertips over mine which were still firmly planted on the rough tarp-bottom of the tent. 

"I wish you didn't have to see that." I said, leaning my body to the side, collapsing on top of my sleeping bag, my head landing, thankfully, onto a pillow. 

"It's okay. When Deaton gets here, we'll figure out what's happening. For now, sleep." Stiles said gently, a motherly tone in his voice and I smiled slightly at this.

"Okay." I said, wasting no time in letting my eyelids slip closed.


	10. 10

Chapter 10

 

The dark space of dreamless sleep slowly ruffled, edges moving into view. Trees began to come to light and a soft orange glow began to shine over my surroundings, casting everything in a sunset-colored glow. I looked around me as the shapes of the objects surrounding me became clearer and clearer. I was standing at our campsite, although all of our equipment was gone along with the pack. In fact, all evidence of the small meadow among the trees being a designated campsite was gone. The bench was missing, leaving only dark pits of dirt where the edges had been buried deep into the soil, uprooted roughly. The stones that made up the fire pit were thrown to the edges of the small clearing and the ash that had once been contained in the modest circle had been scattered, kicked in all directions, coating the grass in a dusty layer of gray a dozen feet in every direction, like sunbeams fading away from the center. The grass below me was dry, not quite dead, but not far off. Weeds were spurting out in aggressive jumbles across the width of the small campsite, if it could still be called that. 

 

“Derek.” a voice called, distant and blurry, barely distinguishable. The words were softened, almost whispered as if the sound had been carried to me on the wind. I looked around, peering through the thick trees that surrounded the campsite on all sides. The forest was so dense that anything further than three trees deep received absolutely no light, leaving nothing but a black pit just beyond the closest edges of vegetation. 

 

“Derek?!” The voice called again, frantic this time, the voice louder and much clearer. 

 

It was Stiles’ voice, I could tell that clearly now. His words were panicked and I could now hear his breath. He was panting, pulling air in and out of his lungs quickly and deeply, and I could hear his heartbeat, although muffled under the sounds of his gasps. 

 

“DEREK!!” He screamed, a shrill, earsplitting shriek. 

 

I spun around, trying to find a path through the darkness, a hint at which direction I should even run. I couldn’t understand where Stiles’ voice was coming from. He sounded so loud, but still so far away. I wasn’t even able to discern what direction his cries were coming from. It sounded like his voice was being recorded and played back through a loudspeaker in each direction, each side just as close as the others. 

 

“Derek, please.” Stiles cried, his voice broken, cut down the middle by a desperate sob. His pleas were gutteral, the final calls for help by a man who was about to lose everything, about to die, even. 

 

I started running, taking off into the darkness. As soon as I broke past the small ring of light in the trees, I was swallowed in utter blackness. I kept up a jog, thrusting my arms out in front of me, feeling for trees or bushes but I felt nothing. I was in an endless, empty, lightless space. There was no sound. I stopped running and opened my eyes as wide as I could, trying to soak up some miniscule ray of light. 

 

Off in the distance, I saw a flicker, a small ray of light in the darkness. Without thinking, I ran to it, never tearing my eyes from it. It came closer, burning brighter and I could see that the light moved, like a lightbulb on a cord that was swinging back and forth. The closer that I got, the more I was able to see until I was able to make out a shape below the moving light. As I ran closer, I could make out the shape of a figure, a person, laying in a crumpled heap below the lightbulb and I felt my stomach twist. 

 

Please don’t let that be Stiles. If it is, please let him be okay, I thought, repeating the mantra to myself as I approached the figure, slowing down to walk the last three steps hesitantly towards the figure. The figure was laying face down, limbs twisted into bizarre angles and I felt my stomach move up into my throat. I reached a trembling hand out to the figure, pulling the shoulder to turn the person on its back and I choked out a strange sound that has never come out of my mouth before. It was somewhere between a gasp, a sob, and a dry-heave. 

 

Stiles’ face was grey, ash-tinted skin stretched wickedly tight over his bones. There was no ounce of fat or even muscle anywhere on his body. He was a skeleton wrapped in a too-small cloak of skin. Dark purple circles ringed his eyes and echoed in the hollows of his cheeks and temples. His eyes were open, staring blankly ahead, not looking at me, but looking past me. I pulled him onto my lap, cradling him against my chest and I felt the tears flowing from my eyes and I gasped, sobs and small screams escaped my lips as I squeezed Stiles to me, his body cold and lifeless, feeling heavier than it ever had. 

 

I was halfway through another miserable scream when I woke up, multiple sets of hands shaking my body violently. Instinctively, I jumped back from the hands, landing at the far side of the tent, looking back at the shocked faces of Isaac, Scott, Lydia, and Stiles. It took me the length of four heartbeats to realize why everything was blurry. My face was wet, and I reached a tentative hand up and felt tears on my cheeks. 

 

“Derek?” Stiles asked, leaning forward just a fraction of an inch.

 

“I need to go. I’ll be back.” I said in a rush, darting out of the opening of the tent as quickly as I could before I could be stopped by Scott or Isaac, and broke into a full sprint as soon as my feet planted onto the dirt. I could feel the tears springing to my eyes, welling over onto my cheeks again as I remembered my dream. Stiles lifeless face was clear in my head and I fought against the sobs that were strangling my throat. I took deep breaths as I ran through the trees, forcing clarity into my head. 

 

After a few minutes, I felt calmer, but at the same time, I felt winded. This, I wasn’t used to. It used to take dozens of miles before I would even begin to feel a shortness of breath. Now, after only perhaps a mile, I could feel the ache forming in my side and I felt a little dizzy. I slowed to a stop, sucking in a few deep breaths, filling my lungs to their absolute capacity before turning around to begin running back.

 

Now that I was calm, I began to feel guilty for running away from my pack like that. They had woken me from my dream and their faces all look scared when I had leapt across the tent. Then, I just ran. I imagined what Stiles was thinking now, as Scott probably carried him out of the tent and set him by the fire. Maybe the two wolves had come looking for me and left Stiles alone with Lydia. Maybe he was having a panic attack. I felt the guilt surge hotter and I quickened my pace.

 

I ran at a slower pace than I ran before, a quick consistent jog rather than the dead sprint I was bounding with to get away from the campsite. My muscles felt a small ache in them, fatigue setting in. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult as I ran and I was forced to slow myself down. I refused to walk, though, that would mean that I gave into my weakness. Even if it was a slow run, I’d run the entire distance back to Stiles.

 

It took much longer than I had expected to get back to smelling range of the campsite, and when I did, I smelled something different. It took me a moment to place the scent, but after a few more breaths, I recognized it as Deaton. I felt relief wash over me, renewing my strength enough to pick up my pace, allowing me to burst from the trees into the clearing at a full run. 

 

“Deaton.” I said calmly, keeping my voice low and level although that was a task through my labored breaths. 

 

“Ah, Derek, there you are. We were worried.” He answered cooly, turning around to face me and flash me a grin.

 

I waved a hand dismissively and sat down on the edge of the picnic bench, next to where he was standing, and looked across to the camping chair where Stiles was seated next to Lydia. I gave him a small smile to reassure him that I was okay and I saw the desperate look in his eyes melt away a bit. Lydia was next to him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly and I forced myself to look back to Deaton before I could feel jealousy thrum in my head. 

 

“Okay, Derek. Start from the beginning. When did you first notice something was off?” Deaton asked, giving me his full attention.

 

“Yesterday,” I answered confidently, briefly considering how much I should tell him, “I was looking at Stiles and everything just sorta faded to black and then I passed out.” 

 

He raised an eyebrow at me before responding, “Werewolves don’t pass out.” 

 

I nodded my head, “That’s the concern.” 

 

He motioned for me to continue and I told him about how long it had taken me to come around after I had fainted. I began to tell him about the black marks that had taken over my face after kissing Stiles, and he cut me off.

 

“Wait, you were kissing Stiles?” He asked, incredulously.

 

I nodded, feeling a blush creep up my face. 

 

“Oh, well I guess I forgot to mention that. About a week ago, I claimed Stiles as my mate.” I explained, watching a number of emotions cross over his features--shock, confusion, concern, fear, realization.

 

“What is it Deaton?” I asked flatly, demanding an answer out of him.

 

“I know what’s wrong with you,” He said, his eyes going incredibly serious.

 

We all waited, no one breathing while he found the wording for his answer.

 

“You see, werewolves are supposed to choose other werewolves as mates. That’s because when two wolves create that bond, the power, energy, life, whatever you want to call it, gets transferred between them. You mix your souls together, if you will. However, since Stiles is a human and one, is incapable of forming a bond as strong as that a werewolf has to his mate, and two, is a different species with a completely different type of power.” Deaton explained slowly, making sure that we all understood what we were saying. 

 

“What does that mean? What is going to happen to me?” I asked, refusing to break my gaze from Deaton’s face. I couldn’t stand to see whatever emotion was crossing Stiles’ face right now.

 

“I can’t be sure, it happens differently for everyone. It isn’t a widely discussed issue because interspecies mating is so uncommon in werewolves. Generally, the wolf ends up sacrificing most of his powers to the human and the human trades some of his traits back to the wolf. They end up somewhere in the middle, eventually reaching an equilibrium. Since Stiles is so much weaker than you are almost every sense, you’ll be sacrificing most of your powers to him.” Deaton explained, keeping his tone gentle and soft as he broke the news to us. 

 

“So, I’m going to be part werewolf?” Stiles asked, breaking the heavy silence.

 

“In a way, yes. You probably won’t be able to transform, but you’ll be stronger and faster and you’ll feel your emotions in a way closer to how Derek does. Like the bond, for instance. You’ll probably heal faster, age slower, but not at the same rate as Derek.” Deaton said. 

 

“So I’m going to be a really wimpy werewolf.” I stated, meaning to sound joking but I could tell my voice came across too flat.

 

Deaton chuckled lightly at my revelation, helping to loosen up the tense atmosphere that had fallen around our campsite.

 

“Well, if you want to put that way, then yes. But at least you’d get to keep Stiles.” He reasoned.

 

“You say that like there is another option.” I snorted, looking over to Stiles to flash him a loving smile. 

 

“Well, actually, there is.” Deaton said slowly, calculating.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes.

 

“Well, if you separate yourself from Stiles, keep your distance from him, you can’t break the mate-bond, but you will retain your power. You’ll remain as you are and so will Stiles.” Deaton explained.

 

My mind immediately rejected the idea. There was no way that I could avoid Stiles for the rest of my life. What a terrible existence. I glanced over at the beautiful boy and upon meeting his eyes, had a second, sickening realization. I would be far too weak to properly protect Stiles from all of the dangers that come with being a part of my world. He’d be vulnerable to every threat and now I would too. I’d get us both killed if I stayed with him. The images from my dream came flashing into view and I pictured myself holding Stiles’ cold body against mine while I bled out, everything fading to black for me too. I got the urge to heave my stomach up to my mouth and let whatever contents might be inside fall to the ground but I bit my tongue. 

 

Stiles’ expression began to morph from worry to fear as he watched me looking at him, considering. It was clearly obvious that I was debating my options in my head. I knew that he was expecting a quick reaction. A sudden and absolute ‘no way,’ but I couldn’t give him that. I loved him too much to put him in danger and by staying, I was undoubtedly doing so. However, if I left entirely, I wouldn’t be able to protect him either.

 

“How far would I have to get?” I asked Deaton, trying to be quiet about it, but I realized that Stiles heard my question when I heard a sharp intake of breath and the kickstart of Stiles’ heart into a flutter. 

 

Deaton looked at me with no hint of humor as he answered, “Obviously the closer you were, the worse it’d be, but you could probably remain in the pack. It isn’t measurable distance that will save your power but a distance in bond. No physical contact, avoid anything that might be viewed as bonding. You’d basically have to deny your inner wolf of every urge it has towards him but if you could do it, you could remain close.”

I looked up at Stiles again, wondering if I’d be able to do that for him. He had his face turned towards Lydia, whispering something so softly to her that even I couldn’t hear it. My ears were getting weaker. He had a hand covering his face as he whispered to her so I could see his expression, but judging by the protective hunch of his shoulders and the way that his other arm was coiled tightly around his own waist, he wasn’t taking my reaction well. 

 

Suddenly, Lydia was moving. She stepped in front of Stiles, blocking him from my view and grabbed his crutches from the edge of the chair, helping him up to his feet. She kept her posture protective around him as they began to walk off, carefully remaining between Stiles and I. He was moving quickly, trying to escape. Without thinking, I ran up to him, pushing Lydia somewhat roughly away from him as I gripped his shoulders and ducked down to try to force his eyes to meet mine. 

 

When he lifted his head, I saw the tears. There was streaks of tears down his cheeks and he had that same dead look in his eyes that he had the first night that I came in through his window. Seeing that punched every fragment of air that I had in my lungs out and left me breathless. I tried to resist the urge to contort my face in pain but only ended up limiting it, not able to stop the grimace that stretched over my mouth. 

 

“Stiles…” I said, not knowing what I could possibly say to make this better. 

 

“Please,” He said, his voice cracking, “Let me go.”

 

By now, Lydia was back at his side, shoving herself between Stiles and I. I let my hands drop from Stiles’ arms and I stepped back, feeling a familiar ache echo through my chest. I felt the strange pang of loss and pain surging through me in a way that rivalled the feeling that had come over me when I lost my family. 

 

“Stiles, listen to me,” I started, trying to keep my voice even, “You know that I want you more than anything and that’s why I have to do this. If I’m weakened, I can’t protect you from whatever creature comes along next. Your life means more to me than any force on this planet and that’s why we have to do this.” I could feel a desperate, pitiful croak entering my voice as I ended and I felt tears break over my eyes. 

 

“Okay.” was all that Stiles said and that hurt worse than him yelling at me, cursing me. He moved again, Lydia by his side as they walked to dock. Neither of them looked back at me as they shuffled forward. I didn’t chase them, even though I desperately wanted to. I wanted to shake Stiles into understanding and kiss him with ever fiber of my being and tell him every sappy proclamation of love I could come up with, but for the sake of his life, I stayed planted in the grass. I felt another panic attack clenching my chest and I quickly moved my hands up to rub against my face, trying to force some semblance of calm over myself before the panic took me over completely. I felt hands on my arms and managed to open my eyes enough to see Scott and Isaac trying to comfort me awkwardly. I shoved both of my elbows out roughly, pushing them away from me and took off at a sprint again, heading for the treeline.


End file.
